


We Shall Ship The World And Sail The Universe

by thedezgyrl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Action, Adventure, BDSM, Blood, Brutality, Comedy, Dirty Talk, Domination/submission, Drama, Erotic, Fantasy, Feud, Fighting, Friendship, Funny, Gore, Headcanon, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Just Roll With It, Lols, Love, Mind Fuck, Mpreg, Multi, NSFW, OTP Feels, Ocean, Other, Parody, Plot Bunnies - Freeform, Plot Twists, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnant, Riding Crops, Romance, Sea, Sex, Shipping, War, crackships, gender fluid, male impregnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedezgyrl/pseuds/thedezgyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I coauthored this with a friend. In this we decided to have fun with the nations of Hetalia. In doing so we have shipped all of the main OTP's. They are their usual random selves. Just like in Hetalia there is no definitive plot. Though some story lines do carry over.</p><p>However, in ours, we do have impregnation. Along with my crazy idea to give the prominent bodies of water (Oceans, Seas) personifications. If the nations can have human forms, why not them, too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Atomic 'B' Bomb

Germany looked at Sweden and Finland during the World Meeting. Or should he say United Nations gathering? He didn't know. He didn't care. Germany was busy looking at the two - eyebrow a twitch. Something was a miss - but what? Lately they seemed odd and more than what was suitable for normal chumminess.

At the same time he felt Italy trying to play feetsies under the table with him. It was nearly breaking his concentration.  
"Would you stop acting like a silly schoolgirl, Italy?" Germany hissed quietly at him.

"Ve~ This meeting's boring, Germany! I was just trying to lighten the mood, what's wrong with a little fun, huh~?" Italy grinned, though he did stop.

Sweden noticed Germany's staring, and stared right back at him, until the other man turned his attention to his Italian partner. He'd spent the meeting thus far in silence, preferring to listen than speak (plus, he wasn't that great of a speaker).

Finland nervously looked between Sweden and Germany, not exactly sure what was going on. Or how to go about it. Finland quietly wrung his hands over and over under the table. But jumped out of his anxiousness when America slammed his fists on the table.

"Guise! We seriously need to do something fun this summer! Any ideas?! I have a few. Drinking beer on a beach with busty babes! How bout it Germany!" He slapped his hand on Germany's shoulder and firmly gripped it. Then beamed at him with camaraderie.

Germany looked at him beyond perturbed and mulled over how to tell America to stop touching him. And to remove that god awful smile from his stupid face. It made him look like an annoying tourist.

Sweden ignored America, his focus on Finland. He wanted to do something to calm the man, but didn't think a simple "calm down" would suffice. Instead, he reached and placed a hand on Finland's shoulder, in an attempt to be comforting.

"Ya okay?"

Meanwhile, Britain stood, arguing with America. "You git! There's more to life than beaches, drinking, and women!"

"Britain is just jealous that he does not have the lovely beaches, no?" France quipped, sipping the wine he'd brought with him.

Greece slept on.

"Yeah. Just not understanding the staring of Germany." Finland said softly to Sweden. Ever since getting word from the doctor. Finland had been jittery, jumpy, anxious, and all of the uncomfortable things one could feel. Not because of the news itself. ..because how Sweden may react. Not including the other countries.

"You wouldn't know fun even if it bit your bland and tasteless ass!" America laughed hardily at Britain.

"D'ya want t' leave?" Sweden asked, his hand not leaving the Finn's shoulder. He had a sneaking suspicion that the meeting was pretty much over by this point. 

"Everyone is fighting and it gives me great pleasure smile!" Russia said cheerfully. "Don't you think it's nice, Lithuania?"

Lithuania didn't say anything, nervous.

"We have plenty of fun in my country!" Britain argued with America. "We just don't have to destroy our sobriety or chances at a healthy future to do so!"

"I am not getting involved in this," Switzerland muttered, taking Liechtenstein's hand and leading her out. "We're leaving."

Before Switzerland and Liechtenstein could leave. And while fighting the urge to be sick from making such an announcement. Finland fought through it and in a big burst of breath blurted, "I am having the pregnancy!"

Then he slowly slipped like melting ice from his chair and to the floor. To the safety under the table. Before everyone's blinks and awkward expressions could turn his way.

There was an uncharacteristically long pause. America and Britain stopped fighting. France spit out his wine. Everyone stared at the empty seat in which Finland had been sitting before.

"Big Brother," Liechtenstein looked up at Switzerland. "How can a man get pregnant?"

"...And we're out of here!" Switzerland practically fled the room with the young girl.

"Dude..." America said.

Denmark busted out laughing. "Ha! That's the best joke I've heard all week!" He ignored Norway, who glared at him for his insensitivity.

Meanwhile, Sweden's mind was reeling, and he was silent.

Finland didn't want to come out just then. He was about to, but he saw over the top of the chair. How eerily still Sweden had become and how Sweden's chin clenched and unclenched. Either he was thinking of what to say or he was about to do something crazy. Instead of waiting around to find out exactly. Finland started crawling under the giant table and heading toward the door. Which was an even bigger mistake. He smacked headfirst into Italy, who just decided to join him under the table.

"What are you doing Italy?" Finland whispered.

Germany had a shocked look and at the same time had an 'Aha! Moment' in his head. That was why he had that odd feeling in the first place! They had slept together. Which made him slightly jealous. Germany looked around and noticed Italy was gone. It wasn't like he was his keeper or anything of the sort. Though he had grown attached to Italy - he would rather die than admit it. Italy had tried to get that far with him, but Germany wouldn't allow it. He had been close to giving in several times....

America blinked for a long time and then slapped Sweden on the back, "My man! You dirty dog!"

"And just how do you know Sweden's the father, wanker?" Britain argued with America.

Norway spoke up, looking directly at the thick-eyebrowed man. "Are you serious?" Could Britain be so dense? Sweden and Finland LIVED together. And as silent as Sweden was, it had always been clear that he was more overprotective of the Finn more so than any other nation, going against his own boss at times in order to aid him.

Meanwhile, Italy smiled. "Shh. I'm going to leave this boring meeting. Germany never lets me leave early, but maybe I can sneak out to, yes?" He began crawling toward the door.

Sweden stood, silent and (unintentionally) intimidating as ever, making his way around the table to get his partner.

"...Fin." he said, peering under the table at the man and motioning with his hand for him to "come here."

"Hey, Greece! Wake up, you lazy cat-loving twit." Turkey said, shaking the sleeping nation a bit. "Things are getting interesting here."

"Huh! I wasn't aware this was possible." Prussia said, then sneered. "Maybe Italy would like to have one of my awesome kids, what do you say, West?" he lightly jabbed Germany in the side, laughing.

Finland cautiously crawled out from under the table and stepped towards Sweden. Careful to keep a step of space between them. Finland knew that Sweden cared about him. But Sweden was so intimidating.

"Yes?" Finland asked.

Germany scowled at Prussia and wanted to punch him so hard in the balls. That they turned his junk into a vagina. But then they would have to put up with him talking about his awesome vaj. 

"I say that you keep away from Italy. Else your sausage will become a strudel." Germany said crudely.

"I think Britain and America should hurry up and consummate their bromance." France said while idly swirling his cup of wine.

In record speed, America and Britain approached France and protested his statement. 

"Why do you have to slander me, bro?" America questioned.

"He's probably drunk off the wine, the git." Britain muttered.

"Come on, West." Prussia leaned toward Germany, speaking low enough that no one else could hear. "If you don't make a move on Italy, I will. We both know you want to, though--do you think you could keep anything from your awesome big brother? Ha!"

"'m thinkin' it's time t' go." the Swede suggested. He wanted to talk to the Finn privately, see what he was thinking. In truth, while he was shocked, he was also fine with the pregnancy if Finland was. That Finland seemed to intend to carry through with it (considering he told everyone instead of getting rid of it without letting anyone know) made him feel a bit of nervous excitement. He'd be a father, and his wife (as he called the Finn) would bear their child, and... Oh Odin... If the child looked *anything* like Finland... So cute... So, so cute... Cutest...


	2. Assembling An Armada

Once in their own home. Finland sat on the edge of the couch. Wringing his hands in his usual manner. Sweden sat beside him, so close, that their thighs were touching.

"What would you like to discuss?" Finland asked of Sweden. Eyes glued to the floor.

"How're ya feelin'? 'Bout the pregnancy?" He was tempted to just hug and squeeze the cute little Finn, but resisted that urge in order to properly gauge the situation.

"S'okay. More worried about your reaction." Finland said to the Swede. "How're you feeling about it?"

"Don' wanna impose on ya," Sweden responded, "but 'm okay with it." He thought then would be a good moment to pull the Finn into a gentle hug. He'd surely end up treating Finland like fine china now that he was pregnant.

Sweden could feel the Finn's face heating up, and he knew he shouldn't look. But he couldn't help himself. Pulling back just a bit, he stared at Finland's face, admiring his flushed cheeks and the way he blushed a deeper shade of red due to his staring.

He could resist no more, leaning in to kiss the Finn.

Finland kissed him back and he felt his Swedish counterpart smile against his lips. Then his fingers wound in the Swede's hair.

Finland's hand in his hair sealed the deal. Immediately, Sweden stood, lifting the other into his arms bridal-style and carrying him into the bedroom. Gently, he placed the Finn on the bed, crawling over him, running a hand up one of Finland's legs and swallowing the man's lips in a heated kiss.

Finland let out a low heated groan as Sweden touched him. It was almost as if he would disintegrate from the blistering heat of passion welling up inside of him. Finland wanted to be closer to Sweden and no matter how close they got. It wasn't enough. It was altogether thrilling and frustrating.

Finland's shirt was off nearly in the blink of an eye, and his wrists were held gently, yet firm, a bit away from his head by Sweden. The Swede knew the Finn liked to cover his face during intimate moments, but he didn't want that to happen. He wanted to see, wanted to hear the man beneath him as he was pleasured.

Nipping the other's jaw, Sweden made his way down with teeth and tongue to his nipples, pressing his tongue against the bud and swirling it around for a moment before taking it between his teeth and lightly sucking. Finland's gasps were music to his ears and he continued to play with the now peaked bud for a moment longer before moving to the other and giving it equal treatment.

Finland wanted so badly to hide his face or find a way to cover his mouth. He kept biting his bottom lip, he would pull on it as he was biting forcing back a moan, but soon it bubble out. Causing his mouth to become a big 'O' shape, his eyelids would shut, and his lower back would arch. He felt Sweden's mouth continuing downward, leaving burning trails of bliss wherever they met his skin. And it was near torture, the way Sweden's eyes would look up at him over the rim of his glasses. The way they smoldered, emboldened by a lover's confidence.

Gone next were the rest of Finland's clothes and then Sweden's own. He grabbed a small tube of warming lube from the nightstand. Gently, he pulled the Finn's knees apart and settled himself between them. Sweden began to tease (or was the right word "worship"?) Finland's body once more, running his hot tongue up one thigh, then the other, never quite going as high. as the other would want. His hands gripped Finland's own, still keeping the man from stifling his sounds or hiding his face, while also enjoying when he would involuntarily grip the Swede's hands.

Finland bucked his hips when Swede's tongue and hot breath got close to his throbbing erection. He wanted so badly to feel his husband inside of him. That he thought he would die from frustration. He licked his lips craving a kiss and his wrists tugged under Swede's hands. He ached to rake his fingers along his back and his ribbed sides.

Sweden glanced up at his wife's face. Finland's face was deeply flushed, his mouth open in open pants and his eyes glazed over a bit from the pleasure. His bottom lip was a bit red as a result of it being worked between the man's teeth any time he attempted to bite back a moan. It was a lovely sight, indeed.

He let go of one wrist, wondering whether the other would use his free hand to cover his mouth or bury it in his hair. He'd prefer the latter, of course. Opening the little container and putting a generous amount of lube on his fingers, he quickly pressed one against the Finn's entrance, giving him only a brief second of warning before plunging it deep into him. 

To catch him further off guard, the Swede took the head of Finland's cock into his mouth, his tongue mercilessly stroking against the frenulum. He inserted a second finger when he felt his wife was ready, scissoring them to prepare him for what was to come.

Finland moaned and groaned in response. His freed hand gripped the sheet for a split second and then let go. It fervently gripped the hair of the Swede. Which he could tell spurned him on even more. When he felt Sweden's fingers enter him, he knew what was coming, and his head spun from the preparation of pleasure to come. His bottom moving down his fingers to greet his knuckles.

A few more thrusts from his hand, and Sweden figured Finalnd was ready enough. He removed his fingers from his body and let go of his other hand in order to lubricate himself, then properly position himself. Pushing in slowly, he nearly lost control of himself due to the delicious heat surrounding his cock, roughly gripping his wife's hair without thinking and jerking his head up so that the Swede could nearly devour him in a kiss. Hips met thighs and he pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in hard.

It was then that he thought he had become to rough and nearly panicked (though it didn't show on his face), wondering if he'd hurt Finland. He was a fragile, delicate flower, after all.

Finland let out a surprised moan, but it wasn't painful, it felt really good.

"Husband, dun'stop." Finland breathed. "Feeling real'good."  
His body arced. Stomach reaching up to kiss Sweden's. Fingers curling tighter into his hair. Looking up at him with a rosey face and his trembling lips begging him to continue.

The viking blood in Sweden boiled over, and he didn't bother stopping it, beginning to thrust harshly in and out of Finland, and pinning him hard to the bed. He was even more vocal than normal, letting out low grunts and groans, but making sure Finland heard him by bringing his mouth to his wife's ear. He nipped at his neck, then soothed the nips with his tongue.

Finland felt the mattress indent from the pressure. It was almost like a cacoon around his body. And his breathing hitched and his moans were high pitched. The sounds Sweden made in his ear exciting him more. The feel of his lover's abdomen consistently rubbing his own erection.  
"Ah~, Swede. Feels so'good! Mmmm."

"Fin..." Sweden shifted his hips a bit, then began thrusting more erratically, hitting Finland's prostate each time and thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his wife's muscles clenching around him. He was about to climax, but wanted Fin to do so first.

Finland could feel himself cinching and tightening. He could feel Sweden's cock enlarging and nearing climax. After a few moments of kissing and neck nipping. Paired with his cock being rubbed by his husband's ripped stomach. 

In just a few moments. His head spun and he could feel his cock twitch. He tried hiding his face as he climaxed. But Sweden held his head in place with his hand. Jets of seedy rope erupted all over Sweden. Finland bit his lip and the moaned. "Ah! Ah! Ah~~~ Oh Sweeeden."

Finland's face and moans as he climaxed sent Sweden over the edge, slamming his lips against his wife's as he too saw stars. He waited until the sensations faded before gently pulling out, and checking to make sure he hadn't harmed the other man in any way.

"Ya hurt anywhere?" he asked.

"I am fine." Finland said while catching his breath. Though his face twisted in an odd expression. Which caused Sweden to be concerned. Finland had felt a fluttering in his belly and soon realized it was the baby. His hand going to his stomach which seemed to make Sweden even more panicked.

"I feel the babe movin about."

Sweden had thought he was going to have a heart attack until Finland mentioned the baby moving. He reached a hand out to place it where Finland's had was to see if he could feel it too,or if it was too soon for that.

"It maybe to early for ya to feel. Its just quickening." Finland explained. He had read it in a baby pregnancy book.

"Mm." Sweden nodded, then went to grab a warm wash cloth to clean the two of them up from their activities. Afterward, he dropped the cloth in the laundry basket and pulled a pair of pajama boxers on, slipping beneath the covers and holding Finland in his arms.

It did not take Finland long to pass out. Curled and held in the embrace of his lover's strong arms. He was so happy.

Sweden found it hard to sleep for a bit, thinking about everything the baby would need, wondering if he'd bee good enough as a father.... He watched Finland sleep for some time, before finally succumbing to sleep himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Germany had just finished making dinner. It was sauerkraut and bratwurst. Italy had imposed himself to stay and dine with him. Which was fine even though he was annoying. The Italian wrinkling his nose as he poked his fork at the kraut.

But what really bothered Germany, was the fact that Prussia had imposed himself as well.

"I'm happy for Finland and Sweden." Italy said, not really talking to anyone in particular. "But having a babe's gotta be really scary. I think I'll make him or a nice, big, white flag. Do you think the baby would like that? Or I'll get them some pretty flowers or a nice, fluffy pillow." He rambled on, listing various ideas for gifts.

"Having a baby's not that scary." Prussia said, ignoring Italy's rambling.

"Hm?" The Italian turned to the silver-haired man. "Have you had a baby, then?" Prussia choked on his wurst.

"N-no... I... I mean, nothing's scary for the awesome PRUSSIA!"

Germany rolled his eyes as he took a seat. And began to eat big fork fulls of the meal.

"Why are you even here Prussia? What happened to that pool tournament with Poland and Russia? Are you afraid they will beat your awesomeness?" Germany sneered.

"So rude to family, West! And never afraid! If you wanted some private time with Italy, all you had to do was ask. So, your awesome, gracious big brother will leave--I need to go teach Poland about my awesomeness anyway. Don't have too much fun, West!" He winked and snickered, fleeing before his younger brother could do a damn thing about it.

"Why would someone say not to have too much fun?" Italy mused. "Fun is fun. Too much fun sounds really nice, don'tcha think, Germany?"

Germany looked down at his plate solemnly and thought back to SuFin. And how he had felt a pang of jealousy. "How do you feel about me Italy?"

"Ve~?" Italy sat up. He'd been leaning on the table, but now sat straight to think. "What do you mean, Germany?"

Germany didn't immediately respond, but Italy didn't seem to mind, taking the time to think hard about the question.

He'd been asked that question before, hadn't he? The memory bubbled and surfaced in his mind slowly, from when he lived at Austria's house as a child. Hungary had been there too, but there was someone else. It was so long ago, centuries ago, yet still, the words rang clear as ever.

"Holy Rome!" Italy had called, chasing after the other boy. He'd been told his friend was leaving Austria's house, and Italy didn't want him to leave, but he was honestly too afraid of Holy Rome to admit this. Instead, as he stood before the blonde, panting.

"I-Italy?" The blonde appeared nervous, though about what, the Italian could not be certain.

"I-I wanted to say goodbye, and wish you good luck!" Child Italy smiled. He wasn't sure where Holy Rome was going, but he'd left the house often on trips, and returned every time, and he was certain this would be like every other time. "I'll make some delicious pasta when you return home."

The other boy just stared at him for a moment, then looked away, a light blush on his face (though that, too, was normal, so Italy thought nothing of it then). It was a few long moments before he spoke.

"Italy...? How do you feel about me?" the young empire asked.

"V-ve? What do you mean?" Italy was terribly confused. He really liked Holy Roman Empire, felt more for him than he knew how to say--but he couldn't tell him that. The blonde was scary, and was always picking on him, it seemed, though he'd also been very friendly... Even complimented him a few times, now that he thought about it... Maybe it was okay to tell him a little? As the boy opened his mouth to speak, Holy Rome shook his head.

"N-nevermind! I--I'll be home soon, so..." he turned to leave quickly.

"H-Holy Rome...?"

The boy turned briefly to Italy. "I'll come back soon. Promise!" And before Italy could say anything else, he fled. Italy was never told where Holy Rome had gone, but Italy did know one thing, as days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned to years, and years became centuries.

He never came back.

The memory overwhelmed Italy. Amber eyes glistened with tears and he didn't even seem to notice as they streaked down his cheeks. The only thought, aside from the memory, in Italy's mind, was a question: If Germany was asking this, did that mean that he'd leave soon, too?

 

Germany didn't think one simple question would illicit that kind of reaction. Thinking that he had somehow done something wrong by asking that, he quickly backtracked from it. "I am sorry Italy. I did not mean to upset you. Forget I asked anything."

Germany didn't think one simple question would illicit that kind of reaction. Thinking that he had somehow done something wrong by asking that, he quickly backtracked from it. "I am sorry Italy. I did not mean to upset you. Forget I asked anything."

He quickly grabbed a dinner napkin and dabbed at his eyes.

Italy shook his head. "No I won't forget!" That was the thing. He wouldn't forget, ever. But that didn't mean he had to make the same mistake twice. While he'd lost the chance to tell Holy Roman Empire that he'd cared, he refused to do the same to Germany--even if Germany left, at least he wouldn't regret saying nothing.

"Germany... I..." he held back a sob as memories flashed through his mind--memories of he and Germany: when they'd met and he'd tried to pretend he was a box of tomato fairies, when Germany treated him better as a prisoner than anyone else, when Germany accepted him as a friend, helped him over and over again even though he was considered weak...

"I don't know what to say to you, so I'm just gonna say everything! I haven't had a friend in a long time, and even though you were scary, you still were nice to me. And then you said we were friends, and we made an alliance, even though I always caused trouble--but you were always helping me anyway! Y-You mean more to me than a friend, Germany! You gave me so much and I only took, but still you stayed friends with me and things are better than ever for me, but I don't want you to leave, Germany! I'd rather pasta leave and me have to eat yucky sauerkraut forever than you leave. Please don't go!" He was in full-blown sob mode now.

Germany didn't know what to do. So in a last ditch effort, he kissed Italy. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time Germany had kissed him. It took both of them by surprise. As soon as their lips touched Germany pulled away. Then stood and began picking up the plates. Not knowing what else to say or do after something like that.

Germany hoped that would also solidify with Italy how he really felt.

Italy blinked a few times trying to process what just happened. Germany had kissed him...? And he didn't even have to ask him to do it? He watched the blonde leave the room into the kitchen and he followed. Not bothering to think about what he was about to do or say ( and really, when did he ever?), he threw his arms around Germany from behind his hands against the taller man's chest. He could feel the other's muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Ve~ that was nice, Germany. Can we do it again sometime?"

Germany became flustered and gave him an embarrassed sort of smile, "Possibly." Feeling safer with not giving him a yes or a no. "What would you like to do for after dinner entertainment?" Germany asked gruffly.

"I kinda want to go bed early. Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Italy's body was tired from crying, and he honestly didn't want to go home and sleep alone (or with his brother on the chance that he was home too, but he'd been spending a lot of time with Spain recently).

Germany curtly nodded at his request. Followed by leading him to his bedroom and giving him a night shirt to borrow. The German stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the sheets. 

He heard Italy changing in the dark and felt him crawl into bed with him. Then felt Italy snuggling next to him, his soft hair tickling his chin, and he felt his own arms wrapping around him. A small half smile on his face.

Italy's arms were curled up between the two, and he was enjoying being held by Germany. For a split second, he remembered sleeping in the same bed as Holy Roman Empire, which he would do during thunderstorms if the other was home--otherwise he'd stay with Hungary--or Austria, but that was rare. Holy Rome---No. He couldn't think about that again. He shook his head, as if that would get his brain to shut up.

"You're not going to leave me, right Germany?" Were Germany wearing a shirt, he might have gripped it. Instead, he settled for burying his face where his neck met his shoulder.

"I think we are stuck together for forever. Whether we like it or not." Germany chuckled. Then he slid two fingers underneath Italy's chin and pulled his head up to look at Germany. "Italy...." He wondered if he would come to regret these words, but if he didn't he may be very get the nerve to again. "Italy will you be my wife?"

First, Italy was silent, then his face turned as red as, well, marinara sauce, and then his face softened to a degree even Germany had never seen before.

"Yes." It was a surprisingly calm response, but then it was followed by "does this mean we get to sleep together every night? And more kisses?" and Italy's expression was back to his normal ditzy self.

"Of course it does." Germany leaned his head down and kissed him. It wasn't a sexually infused one, but more of a one out of need. Just wanting to feel close. To feel entirely connected.

Italy wrapped his arms around the German's neck, leaving all thoughts of the past behind as he was filled with excitement to be married to Germany. He wondered if they would end up having children like Sweden and Finland.

Germany pulled away and softly kissed his lips. Then settled in next to him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just about how maybe someday we might be like Sweden and Finland--having a baby. If it's not scary like Prussia said... I'd be okay with having your babies."

"Ah. Maybe. But right now let's enjoy one another for the time being. Okay?" He smiled and kissed the top of his wife's head.

"Mmhmm~" He closed his eyes and buried his face in Germany's shoulder once again. His mind, despite his own desires, began to nag at him with memories from the past. He found himself wondering if Holy Rome was with his Grandpa Rome, and if he was happy for him. Part if him wished he could tell him in person, but was reminded that... Had Holy Rome come back.... He may never have been with Germany. The thought hurt his heart in multiple ways, and he found himself reaching for, and gripping, the cross necklace Germany had given him.

It had been around the time when Japan joined their alliance. Italy had had a nightmare about Germany abandoning him for Japan--due to the fact that Japan was so much stronger and more militarized than he. To assure Italy that this would never happen, Germany had removed the cross from around his neck and given it to Italy, and that was also the first time he'd said he loved him.

And here he was now, thinking about Holy Rome. He admitted to himself that it had been decades since he last thought of his friend, but... Of all times...

"When do you want to have the wedding, Germany?" he asked. Maybe before then, he'd allow himself a day to grieve, something he'd kept himself from doing before--as though if he didn't acknowledge or grieve for Holy Rome, his childhood friend would come back to him. A foolish notion if there ever was one, but a good defense mechanism.

Germany was not blind to it. After years of seeing it...it was the face Italy got when he thought of HRE. But he did not say anything, he was use to it by now. Instead he just continued to enjoy the moment.

"I am leaving everything up to you. Except for the suit. I will pick my suit." He stated this so Italy wouldn't pick out something weird or stupid for him.

"Maybe big brother France can help out? Austria, too. Hungary... I don't think Romano will do anything, but it's worth a shot..." He was thinking of those most important to him, then he blurted out, "Hey, Germany, do you think Holy Rome would be happy for me?" He didn't mean to say it, and wondered if he upset his fiance.

"I think he would be." Germany nodded not an ounce concerned with the mention. "And they would probably off their help." Germany conceded with him."

"Yeah..." Italy smiled. "I can't wait~"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
America, Britain, and France had decided to continue their arguments at a local pub. The establishment being owned by Ireland.

"Dude! I can't believe SuFin are having a kiddo. What will they call it?" America asked between gulps of beer and bites of cheeseburger sliders.

"Who knows?" Britain sipped his beer, wondering why he even agreed to come with these two.

"Maybe a Viking-type name, hm?" France had bought a whole bottle of wine. None of that beer stuff for him.

"Britty why are you so up tight? Did you bite into a scone or something?" America asked. Mock concern in his voice and in his eyes.

France had to curl his lips inward to keep wine from shooting out. As he held back a deep laugh.

Finland hugged him back and he felt Sweden's breath on his ear and he blushed instantly. Reminded of how he got pregnant in the first place.

"What's wrong with scones? They're a British tradition! At least biting into the worst scone would be better than dying prematurely due to a heart attack, yeah?!"

"Why don't you two just relax? You two are always fighting. Surely you have something friendly in common, right?" France asked both of them.

America was about to argue, but noticed Britain in concentrated thought. Which made him a bit confused. Because usually he would automatically bicker too. He was also confused and found himself flushing - Britain's thoughtful look was cute. Before his flushing face was noticed, he looked in the other direction, and took a gulp of beer.

Britain was silent for a good while before letting out what sounded like a defeated sigh. "He's not all bad, I suppose."

"Aha!" France responded. "So you do like him!"

"I didn't say that, frogface! I said he's not bad. What the bloody hell is going on in your mind, you twit?!" He took a gulp of beer in a stubborn pout.

Why did America suddenly feel so disappointed when Britain said he didn't like him like that? Why did it bother him so much? The questions went in circles in his head as he laid on Britain's sofa. Something that was common after a night of drinking. While Britain lay in his bed and read a book til he fell asleep.

America was awfully quiet, considering his usual party and wild nature. It made Britain uncomfortable. He couldn't even focus on the words in his book. Instead his mind wandered, wandered back to the pub--America's face had become unreadable for a moment during the Brit's arguing with France about him. What was that look?

He truly hadn't meant it. He did like America, or, well, he didn't find America nearly as annoying or horrible as he let on--but he'd never admit that aloud.

He thought he would check on America, to make sure he hadn't gotten sick or something. And to get his mind off of his own thoughts.

America's head snapped up at Brit's entrance. Usually he was asleep by now. And though America had wanted to give him a cocky grin or throw a verbal jab his way. It just didn't seem to be in him. He felt empty, unsure, and a bit vulnerable. He also contemplated going home, but the only words that came out was a half hearted, "Hey."

No joke? No teasing? No comment about how Britain should really get a more comfortable couch? Something was definitely wrong with America. His hair was a mess, meaning he had been messing with it, something he did whenever he was actually thinking seriously. He had done that for as long as Britain had known him.

"No need to worry about what to eat..." he attempted to jest nervously. "There is food in the fridge..."

America nodded and then sat up. Turning so his feet could be placed on the floor. His hands going back to his hair and ruffling it. He couldn't make up his mind. Ugh! How annoying this was. Should he stay? Should he go? Should he voice his confusion? Should he not? Finally he jumped to his feet and moved across the room, putting his hands on Brit's shoulders, and taking a moment to see Britain's own confused look. He kissed him and kissed him hard. Seeing if he felt anything. After a moment he disengaged his lips and hung his head down so Britain couldn't see his face though he still gripped his shoulders.

If Britain rejected his action. He could blame it on the alcohol. But if he somehow felt the same....he didn't know where to go if he felt the same. Would they continue acting like frenemy rivals in public? What? America stared at the floor and was oblivious to the sweat forming on his brow or the audible lump in his throat that he choked down.

"Wha...?" America couldn't see it, but Britain's face was flushed from shock. America had just... just... kissed him... And while he'd been drinking, the British man couldn't recall that it had been more than usual. What would that mean...?

"America." He spoke, sounding more sure of himself than he felt. He placed his hands over America's hands, lightly holding them where they were to express that Britain didn't want him to bolt. "Look at me."

America looked up at him. His nervous face sheened with sweat and his instinct to run growing stronger. He felt weak. Weak in the sense that he was in a vast ocean of foreign feelings. And he had just dragged Britain into the water with him."Yeah?"

Well, at least now Britain knew that America had been serious when he kissed him. What to do...? Should he admit he enjoyed it, or would that be too forward? His mind spun. He hadn't really expected America to listen.

"Uh..." Unable to come up with any sort of decent verbal response, Britain simply pulled the other into a hug, trying not to be awkward about it. America had gotten a lot bigger since he'd hugged him last--how many years had it been, anyway? A few centuries at least...

"I-If the couch is too uncomfortable, you can stay with me. Been meaning to replace the thing, I mean." He stared at a wall as if it were somehow interesting to him.

America pulled away from him and looked at him. Trying to gauge how serious he was being and if there was any sort of joke hidden in there. And surprisingly there was not. He was relieved from that. But a new nervousness filled him. He couldn't form words. So he went to Britain's bedroom to see if he would really follow him in. The Brit did so.

America undressed and put on a pair of Britain's pajama bottoms. Leaving himself barechested and climbed into bed.

Britain pulled the covers back and lay next to America. It was an awkward few moments before he realized that the extra body heat would make it too warm to sleep with his shirt on, and he sat up. Normally, Britain was proud of his proper and conservative dress, but... It would be less appropriate to sweat.

"Don't judge me." he said, unbuttoning his shirt and removing it.

"What is there to judge?" America lightly joked. Then awkwardly got closer to Britain. They were facing one another. America noticed Brit's biceps and his muscled chest. Without thinking about it. He began absentmindedly tracing the man's abs with his fingertips. He noticed a shiver run through Britain. So he stopped.

Britain tried to think of a way to tell America that he didn't have to stop in a non-awkward way, but failed. Instead, he shifted in bed and stretched, ending up brushing his hand against one of America's arms, which was surprisingly muscular--despite all of the teasing America had received for being "fat" or eating hamburgers all the time. He was pretty fit, and Britain rubbed his arm without thinking.

America caught up in the the sensation. Gave a low and light moan. Then in a heat of passion he kissed Brit again and felt him kiss back. There was a sigh of released tension and then a nipping of lips. 

Followed by a clash of dominance between them. As they kissed it got more intense. Brit pulling at America's hair and America clawing Brit's back.

There was little rational thought or second guessing. At one point, Britain lay atop his former colony and felt the hard-on America had. He didn't think, simply reached a hand down to stroke it.

America reached his hand down into Brit's pants and began to stroke him as well. He let out a moan and squirmed about. It had been a while since he had been with someone no matter how much he lied and boasted about his sexcapades.

Britain attempted to bite back a moan, but was unsuccessful. He pulled America's pajama pants down just enough to release his erection, doing the same to himself, and began rubbing the two together while pressing his lips against the other's mouth.

America decided to let Britain take over and for him to be in control. And when he allowed him him to do so. He began feeling sparks surging through his body. It was almost too much all at once.

"B-Bloody Hell..." Britain muttered because of the sensations. Running his tongue liberally across one hand, he then gripped both of their erections and stroked quickly, palming the heads of their cocks here and there as well. He was surprised by how close he already was, lowering his head beside America's and groaning.

The friction sent America over the edge and with each pump from Britain's hand. He let out a heated cry and licked and nipped the Brit's neck. Then their lips locked fiercely as they both came.

"I'll... I'll go get... Something..." Britain said between pants, stumbling away from America to go get a towel so that they could clean themselves off--cleaning himself, then America, before throwing it on the floor. He'd get it later. Right now, he was exhausted, and he wrapped an arm around America.


	3. Fish 'N Chips 'N Bloody Lips

The next morning Germany had woken up showered, let Italy sleep in, and the went outside to tend to his garden. He wore a plain white shirt and some blue jeans. The shirt was soaked through with sweat and clung to him-showing the skin underneath.

The German thought about how he was now engaged to Italy and how happy it made him. Though the happiness didn't radiate from him. As he wiped sweat from his brow as he continued to weed.

Italy reached out as he woke up, hoping to find Germany beside him. But he wasn't. It wasn't abnormal--Germany almost always woke up and got out of bed before he did, but he thought it would be nice every once in a while for the other to still be in bed when he awoke. Somehow, today, he just felt more lonely. He knew he shouldn't, though. 

 

Crawling out of bed, he dressed himself and looked around for Germany. Seeing him outside through a window, Italy couldn't help but stare for a few moments, watching his soon-to-be husband working as hard as ever. He'd be hungry when he was done, so Italy decided he'd fix breakfast.

Placing a frying pan on the stove, he turned on the heat and went to gather and crack the eggs, choosing a simple breakfast that Germany would like--scrambled eggs and sausage. His mind drifted into the past as he worked, and he accidentally knocked the pan off the stove. Without thinking, he went to catch it, grabbing it with both hands, effectively scalding them. He cried out.

"Figlio di puttana...." he swore, grabbing the handle of he pan and placing it back onto the stove. At least he hadn't put anything in the pan yet. He continued cooking, hoping Germany hadn't heard. Blisters had formed on his hands, and he kept going to the sink to run cool water over them for relief.

[Note: Figlio di puttana = Son of a bitch / son of a whore]

Germany had heard the commotion and entered the kitchen through the back door. He saw Italy cooling his hands under the faucet and took his wrists - careful not to touch his hands. He led Italy to the table and gave him an ice pack from the freezer.

He was quiet while he did this for the Italian and he could tell that Italy thought he was mad. But that could not be farther from the truth. 

"Be more careful." Was all that he said and kissed his forehead. Then finished making the breakfast Italy had started. 

After they finished their meal, Italy prattled on about how he was going to visit Austria. And ask for Austria's help in planning the wedding ceremony. 

With a quick kiss on Germany's lips. Italy set off to Austria's.

Germany decided to take take this time to clear out his cluttered attic. So after washing the breakfast dishes, he headed up there, and set out to start his task.

Italy sighed as he walked to Austria's. As he walked, he continued to drown in memories and found himself walking a different path--the path to where the battle at which Holy Rome had lost his life was. The field was green and full of life now, which didn't really help Italy's mood. It wasn't fair that so much life was here, when the one life he had lost was not. 

He remembered when France had told him about Holy Rome, and he'd fled to this field. Back then, it was war-torn. Nothing lived there, the grass stomped into the earth and even the trees had countless marks from blades. He'd met Prussia, then. But no one else.

He stopped walking and lay in the grass, crying as he had in the past in this very field, sobbing until he fell asleep.

\-----------------------

The phone was ringing.

Germany didn't even have to speak when he answered. It was Prussia. 

"Hey, West! What are you doing right now?" When Germany explained that he was cleaning the attic, Prussia responded, "Hey, while you're up there, I think I left one of my diaries up there. Can you grab it and bring it to me? AND DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT READING IT OR I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"

Germany went back upstairs and continued cleaning. After awhile he came across the diary, and though against Prussia's protest, read it, he cracked it open to the middle.

" The Great Prussia's Diary

Bits of entries that Germany reads:

Day X Month X Year X  
Today was awesome, like myself. I found a guy in a battlefield near Austria's house today. He was pretty beat up and kinda looked like the Holy Roman Empire, but it can't be him because that guy has the ability to talk and the one I found can't. I took him to my house and helped him out because I'm awesome like that and named him "West" because of where I found him. I'm so nice. Anyway, West wouldn't let go of this picture that he had, so I told him I'd put it someplace safe--so I kept it here. Looks like two kids sitting next to each other. West is weird.

Day X Month X Year X  
Another awesome day for the awesome me. West is pretty strong it turns out and he follows me everywhere I go. We ran into Italy today. He was being bullied by a group of guys, don't know why. I was going to step in, but West jumped in first. I guess he likes Italy? Oh well, saved me the trouble. I think he wants to be like his awesome big brother!

Day X Month X Year X  
Today was weird, but I am still awesome. West started calling himself Germany for some reason. I didn't even know he could talk. Why did he have to go and scare me like that? Nearly had a heart attack. Oh well. At least he's calling me big brother now. It's nice to hear. I'm glad I took him in. I'm so nice."

Germany reread it and read it again. Memory after memory began bubbling to the surface. And he remembered a small boy telling him goodbye. And calling him 'Holy Roman Empire'. The boy was Italy.

Germany had to quickly find Italy.

\---------------------------

Arriving at Austria's house, Austria opened the door, looking stern as ever. When Germany asked if he could see Italy, Austria raised an eyebrow. 

"Italy? Was he supposed to be here? He never told me he was coming, and never showed up if he was." It was normal for Italy to be late, but not so normal for him to never show up or not tell someone where he was going. 

"Did something happen?" Hungary asked, walking up to the two.

Germany didn't even wait to answer him and took off in a hurry. He searched high and he searched low. He searched Italy's fort of surrender, his closest friend's houses, and all of his favorite places.

Nearly filled with exhaustion he went on a walk. His walk led him to a field. A field he had not seen in centuries and in the middle of it was Italy. Sleeping.

Italy opened his eyes slowly. The sun was low in the sky by now. He didn't realize he'd slept so long. He'd need to get home or Germany would yell at him or something. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, then noticed someone was walking toward him. Was that...?

He forgot how to breathe when he thought it was Holy Roman Empire. Scrambling to his feet, he ran toward the man, and it took a few seconds for him to recognize that it was really Germany, and he stopped before his fiance, giving a nervous smile.

"G-Germany... I thought you were Holy Rome for a second there... Isn't that silly?" He attempted to laugh it off.

Germany just looked at him for a moment and then smiled at him, "Italy. I am Holy Rome." Thinking that Italy would be overjoyed to hear such news. He continued to smile at his love.

"Hm?" Italy blinked, confused, then giggled a bit. "Now why would you joke about that, Germany?" He didn't really understand.

"I remember when you wished me farewell Italy. I remember being children with you." Germany's face held a look of seriousness. Then he pulled Italy tightly into a embrace.

The realization that Germany wasn't joking hit him like a ton of bricks. Instantly, Italy was overwhelmed with emotion. He felt guilty that he'd been so depressed about his past, given that this should be one of the happiest times of his life, but... The fact that Germany was one and the same with Holy Roman Empire, there was never any need to worry in the first place. He'd lived, and stood before him now.

As an aside, Germany had been right. Holy Rome would be happy for him, because Germany was happy for him, and they were one and the same. The thought made Italy chuckle a bit to himself as he looked up at his fiance's face, staring into the blue eyes containing his past, present, and future. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt Germany's hands brushing the tears off of his face.

"Sei a casa. Sei finalmente a casa." he said, wrapping his arms around Germany's neck. "You're home. You're finally home." He meant it in the sense of closure, and was sure Germany understood that. 

Then he kissed Germany, Holy Roman Empire, his soon-to-be husband.

\-------------------------

Germany and Italy had decided to spend the afternoon watching their favorite shows. Italy had his head in his fiance's lap. Germany absentmindedly stroked his hair.

 

Once the end credits began rolling, Italy sat up, turning to Germany. "Hey, hey, Germany. We should do some more of the kissing. It's nice~" He didn't give his fiance much of a chance to respond before kissing him.

"I just now found you. You had me worried. I thought you hated me and....felt off about our night together." America said with concern and dejection on his face. "Just don't worry. I will take care of you."

Germany was reeling from the unexpected action, but fell into quickly. He kissed him back and felt Italy wind fingers in his hair. Which caused him to groan. He kissed Italy's chin and down his neck - biting it. Then went back to kissing him.

He pulled away and saw that Italy's eyes were still closed. His cheeks rosey and his lips anxiously waiting. It was the cutest thing that Germany had seen him do.

Germany chuckled and kissed him some more.

Italy shivered from Germany kissing and biting his neck. He'd never kissed him anyplace but his face, and it felt oddly good when he'd done that. When he broke the kiss a few moments later to catch his breath, he noticed that even Germany was a bit flushed. At least it wasn't just him!

He lay his head on his fiance's shoulders for another moment before lifting it again and resuming the make-out session.

Germany switched positions, so that Italy was under him, and he was on top. One hand was on Italy's hip and the other on the side of his lover's face. He propped himself on his elbows. They dry humped each other as they kissed and grinded in their heated passion.

Germany wondering how far they should take it. But his body and Italy's were answering for them.

When the kiss broke, Italy let out a soft noise between a whine and a moan. His lips were swollen from kisses, his face flushed, amber eyes half-lidded. He was hot. Very hot. And out of breath. 

He looked up at Germany, wondering what he would do next. It was perhaps the most erotic thing Germany had ever seen of Italy.

Slowly Germany lifted up Italy's shirt and kissed him down his chest. His lips finding them close to Italy's right nipple. He breathed on it, watching it harden even more, then lightly licked it, before enveloping it in his mouth. Rolling his tongue around as he sucked and his fingers pinching and rolling the other one.

Italy's hands found themselves in Germany's hair, his back arcing upward and letting out soft moans as his nipples were teased.

Germany went down lower - kissing, licking, and nipping. When he got to his hips, he nipped each one, watching as Italy shuddered and whimpered. Germany pulled down Italy's pants, the palms of his hands sliding against the skin of his ass as he did so. 

Before taking Italy's length in his mouth. He kissed his private area all over. The ever so slowly licked and swirled his tongue round his lover's cock. Until it was fully inside and he looked into Italy's eyes as he did this.

Then ever so gently he stuck a finger inside Italy. Working it as he continued pleasuring him.

Italy felt like he was going to melt. He'd never felt so good in his life. One hand gripped Germany's hair, while the other squeezed into the couch cushion as he involuntarily bucked his hips a bit,toes curling.

"Germany...! So good...! Ah..." He didn't know how long he could hold out for.

"Nngh...!" Italy's orgasm hit him hard, and he cried out as he came. His face turned red as a tomato when he realized he'd come inside of Germany's mouth, and he began to apologize between breaths.

Germany swallowed all of it, not complaining, and actually enjoying it. He calmed Italy down. He placed Italy's upper body on the arm of the couch, he kissed his neck and rubbed his back getting him even more relaxed. Then slowly inserted himself inside of him, continuing to kiss his neck, and nipping his chin.

Italy's moans had become much louder than before.He'd expected it to hurt a lot, but thanks to Germany's care, it didn't. Ohh, it felt wonderful being stretched and filled so completely. He was already hard again. Above him, he could hear Germany's staggered breath, and knew he was trying not to move to be sure he wasn't hurting Italy. 

"Germany... Germany, move. Please, please... Move..." Italy begged.

Slowly at first Germany moved in and out of Italy. Feeling him stretch and contract. Which made him groan even more and he kept going. A little faster, Italy was so warm and so tight. Germany didn't know how long he could go for. 

He held Italy by the hips and even though he pushed and pulled on them along with thrusting. Italy was doing most of the impaling. Which felt so fucking good.

"Mmmm Italy...keep going....uh...." Germany reached a hand around and felt Italy was hard again. So he started to pump his cock.

"I love you, Italy" He whispered huskily in his ear.

"I love you, Germany!" Italy managed to get out as he moved his hips. It was becoming too much very quickly and before he knew it, he was spilling into Germany's hand, his muscles squeezing hard around the other's cock.

Germany with a deep growling , groan almost sounding like a viking came inside of Italy. At the same time he clamped down after coming. Both of them sweaty and panting heavily, Germany wrapped is arms around Italy and fell sideways, collapsing, spooning on the couch. Germany still hard inside of him, but after a few minutes he softened, and plopped out.

Germany kissed his wife's neck.

Italy was exhausted, breathing heavily and placing a hand over Germany's. His pulse was slowing down as he relaxed. "That was... That was... Really good..." he managed to get out.

"It was. Now time to eat something." Just like a typical man to be hungry afterwards. He pulled his tshirt and boxers back on. Then padded to the kitchen.

\-----------------------

The phone at Germany's house rang as well, with Greenland giving the same message and asking for help. Germany, being ever the militant gentleman, quickly dressed to help stop the fight, and Italy dressed and followed him despite Germany telling him it was dangerous, and unnecessary for him to be there. Nevertheless, Italy followed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
America woke to the smell of breakfast and humming emanating from the kitchen. He groggily crawled out of bed ad rubbed his eyes as he took a seat on the couch and turned the television on. He flipped it to Saturday morning cartoons-which Brit loathed immensely.

America giggled and then chuckled as a cartoon coyote slammed into a brick wall disguised to be a tunnel.

"Hey Britty! What'cha cookin in there?! I am starvin!"

Britain could hear the cartoons playing in the other room and rolled his eyes at America's childishness. Truth be told, he wasn't making anything spectacular for breakfast, being that America didn't generally like his cooking (or anyone, for that matter, which Britain never understood). He decided to make a simple breakfast this morning--fried eggs, bacon, and toast. It was quite common in America, and you couldn't really mess it up, could you? He had some orange juice in the fridge, so America could drink that if he wanted. For himself, he set a kettle for tea.

"Bacon, eggs, and toast." He responded. "Simple breakfast for a simple man."

America and Britain sat down to eat. America hurriedly scarfing it down as usual. Britain asking him if he ever tastes anything he eats before it goes to his stomach. America telling him he can only get his cooking down if he swallows the bites or unmercifully slathers it in ketchup. 

Which led to their normal bickering. Which led to an actual argument. Which led to America leaving when Britain threw him out. Slamming the door in his still yelling face - making sure that America had the last word.

\------------------------------

America went home and decided to play one of his online games.

A few days had passed since America had seen or heard from Britain. He tried calling and even going over there. In a last desperate attempt he went to Ireland's Pub to see if he were there. But only France was in there regular seat. 

America had began to wonder if Britain regretted their night together. It worried him to the point of being sick. He was absolutely beside himself.

He took his seat across from France.

France glanced over at him. "Hm? What are you doing here? Honestly, I thought you were Britain for a moment. Haven't seen him in a while. Wonder what happened to him." He sipped some wine. It was really a mystery why France went there considering he usually sipped wine he himself brought.

America, "Thanks." He headed back to Britain's and opened the door with a credit card. After a moment of calling his name, America found Britain passed out on the bathroom floor.

From seeing the messy house alone. He knew that something was wrong. But now he definitely knew. Britain wore the same clothes he had when he had thrown America out. He changed his clothes and put him in bed. Wiping his face with a cool cloth.

Britain opened his eyes slowly--when did he get into bed? And when did he change? Looking to the side, he saw America holding a damp cloth.

"Wha...? Why...? When...?" He tried to sit up, but the room spun and he groaned. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so sick so fast. 

"I just now found you. You had me worried. I thought you hated me and....felt off about our night together." America said with concern and dejection on his face. "Just don't worry. I will take care of you."

"I... No, I don't feel off about that..." He was thankful for the flush caused by the fever at that moment, and settled back down in bed. "It was nice. Sorry I yelled at you the other day. I... I didn't mean it."

America shook his head as if to say 'no worries'. Then handed him a glass of room temperature water so it wouldn't upset his stomach."I am so pigheaded. I am the one who is sorry." He wiped his face with the cool cloth again. "I am a bit obstinate and at times obnoxious. And you are the voice of cooperation and reason."

Britain thought for a moment that he might only be hearing those words because he'd become delirious from the fever, but one look at America told him he was wrong, that he had heard correctly.

"I... Well.... Thanks. And you don't have to take care of me. I can do just fine." It was a bold-faced lie, but he wasn't the kind to ask for help--especially from America.

"I don't care what you say. I am going to take care of you. Whether you like me to or not." He put the back of his hand to Brit's forehead to check his temp. "And you *are* staying in bed."

Britain closed his eyes, not having the energy to argue. Despite the fact that his body was hot to the touch, he was freezing, shivering. Still, America's hand against his forehead was oddly comforting, and he took the hand into one of his own. It was... nice... to have America there with him.

America leaned down as Britain closed his eyes and kissed him. Not caring either way if he got sick or not as well. That's when America knew beyond a doubt that he was in love with Britain.

Britain couldn't stay awake even if he'd wanted to. He felt completely depleted of energy and lost to sleep.

America even though he never really cleaned his own house. Went to cleaning Britain's so that he didn't have to worry about it. Once in awhile checking in on him as he continued to sleep. Making sure that his temperature got lower instead of higher.

It took a while, but Britain's fever finally broke, and he woke up sweating as a result of that.Great. Now he needed a shower. He made to stand, but despite the fact that his fever was gone, his body still felt like it had no energy, and he ended up falling back onto the bed.

America walked in to check on him and saw how weak that he was. And how he was struggling just to sit up.

"What do you need? Maybe I can help."

"I'm all sweaty." Britain complained. "I just need to bathe, but... Damn body..." He turned red at the thought of America helping him bathe and hid his face in the pillow.

America left the room and drew Britain a warm bath. Then helped him to the bathroom and undressed him. Then undressed himself. And got into the bath him. So it would be easier to bathe him. America sat behind him, having Britain put his back to his chest. Then began washing his hair.

Britain let out a breath, relaxing into America's touch. He began to wonder exactly what they were by this point. Did he love America? Did America love him. He certainly had feelings for the other blonde, but were they reciprocated beyond sexual gratification? He didn't know. Damn.

"Hey, so... How are you feeling? I... I mean..." He decided to spit it out, consequences be damned. "I... As it turns out, I love you. So... There's that." 

America laughed. "I knew that I loved you. When you passed out on me earlier." Then he began scrubbing his chest and back. "I guess we are officially dating then....so do we tell people....or?"

"That's a good question. I think maybe we should keep it to ourselves for now. I don't want to hear anything from France at the moment. Ugh..." He let out a soft groan as America washed his shoulders.

 

After the bath. America helped Britain to the couch. So that he could watch some tv and America could prepare him a small snack."What would you like Britty?"

Britain was about to respond when his phone rang, and despite America's complaints that he not move, he went and picked it up. Clearly someone was yelling on the receiving end of the phone.

"Wait, slow down. What's going on? Ireland and Scotland? ...Fine. I'll be right there." He quickly put on his jacket, swaying a bit by the door, but pressing on, explaining to America what was going on--Ireland and Scotland were duking it out. And Britain needed to help put an end to it.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Finland was up before Sweden. He had tried to make breakfast, but just the sell of food made him feel nauseous. So nauseous that he felt the need to get sick over the toilet.

Tears streamed down his face as he hugged his stomach and had everything come up.

Sweden sat up in bed, hearing the sounds of Finland vomiting down the hall. He shot out of bed and ran to the kitchen, then up to the bathroom, rubbing his wife's back and offering water when he was finished throwing up to help get the taste of vomit out of his mouth and crackers to attempt to help settle his stomach.

 

Despite Sweden's protests, Finland went about cleaning the house. While Sweden did some paperwork for his nation. Finland was cleaning out a room that he decided to use as a nursery. He had already had to stop a few times from lifting heavy boxes that were to be moved to another room. 

In order to do this he had to walk past Sweden's office. Which thankfully the door was closed or else he would have made Finland desist in what he was doing. 

Finland was in the midst of his tenth box haul. When he felt dizzy and collapsed right in front of Sweden's study. Instantly blacking out.

 

Sweden heard a loud thud outside of the door and feared that Finland might have hurt himself. Finding his wife passed out on the floor with a box next to him only made him panic more, and he knelt down, pulling Finland up a bit. 

"Fin? Oi." he pat his cheeks a bit in an attempt to wake him. It didn't work, and the Swede became irritated with himself for not helping his wife clean, or not watching, just not being there in general. Lifting the Finn into his arms, he carried him to the bedroom, then put together a small tray of food and water for when his wife awoke. He took the box where it needed to go and went back to the bedroom, holding Finland's hand and stroking his hair here and there until he woke.

"Hey Swede'tee. I'll be fine." Finland tried to sit up, but a hand greeted his chest. Finland's eyebrows furrowed in protest. "I need to finish the room."

"Ya need t' stay in bed." Sweden said. "I'll be takin' care of everythin' else. No buts. What would ya like t' eat?" Normally, he wouldn't stop Finland from ding what he wanted, but in this case, he didn't want to see his wife getting hurt, and passing out couldn't be good for his health.

"I want tomato soup with the grill cheese. And a yogurt with cheerios. And uh uh sardine orange smoothie." Lately Finland's cravings had been getting stranger and stranger. Most times Sweden could barely stomach looking at them.

"Okay." The Swede nodded and made everything as Finland asked, even if the sardine orange smoothie made him want to vomit by just the thought of it. He made a mental note to buy more ingredients for Finland's new favorite dishes next time he went to the store, and presented his wife with the food as soon as he was done with it.

 

Finland ate all of it gratefully and then tried to get out of bed again. But once again Sweden kept him hunkered down with worry.

 

"Rest. I'll take care of everythin' else. Read or somethin'. But rest." Sweden left the room to finish up the housework and make himself some food, then went into his office to finish up the papers. It didn't take long, considerably.

Finland spent most of his time sleeping and watching tv. That's when Sweden wasn't constantly checking up on him. He loved his husband and appreciated his help. Though he felt a bit confined. 

 

"Do ya think it'will be a boy or a girl?"

"Dunno." Sweden responded. "Just know it'll be perfect." He knew Finland was feeling a bit cramped, and he tried to think of a way to remedy that without risking overexerting his wife."Wanna go on a short walk?" he asked.

Finland had excitedly agreed. While on their walk they bumped into Austria and Prussia. Prussia of course dominating their conversation.

Finland overheard him to Austria, "Did you know West is really Holy Rome?! And I had discovered him?! It has to be that because my awesomeness attracted him like a magnet!"

Finland turned to his husband wide eyed, "Is that true?"

"Mm... Dunno." Sweden said, then approached Austria and Prussia. Prussia hid behind Austria to avoid the man's gaze and Austria gave a look saying "Really? Hiding behind me?"

"Germany is Holy Roman Empire?" Sweden asked, not noticing how intimidating he looked to the other two. Despite that, however, Austria didn't seem to care. 

"Yes, that's what I've been told." Austria responded. "I'm not surprised, though. No one should be.Especially with the way he is with Italy. Holy Rome was infatuated with him."

"I see." Sweden said, nodding, then moved over to Finland again. "Yes. Germany is Holy Roman Empire." he told his wife.

When Sweden and Finland finally went on their way. Prussia straightened up and tugged at his coat as if he were bold.

"Sweden thinks he is so scary! No one intimidates awesome Prussia, not even him! Because I wear my awesomeness like a coat of armor."

Sweden turned his head as they reached the end of the block and looked at Prussia. Prussia going back behind Austria.

"Sometimes I wonder why I hang around you, you know that? And I wonder if I were a stick if you'd still hide behind me. Such a brat." Austria bitched and fumed for another half-hour despite the fact that he was being ignored by the subject of his bitching. It ended with something along the lines of "At least Germany cooks for me. I ask for some kuchen from you and all I get is a fire hazard. Seriously, how are you two related?"

Sweden wrapped an arm around Finland's waist, holding him close. "'s gettin' dark." he said to justify him being so near his wife.Really, he just wanted to be close enough in case Finland became tired, but there's nothing wrong with having an extra excuse.

"You love me and you know it!" Prussia said matter of factly. "You need me like air. You would die without me!" Austria angrily rolled his eyes and huffed at him. So Prussia walked out in the middle of a semi busy street and stood there. "Fine. I will prove it to you."

 

It wasn't even a second later Austria had dragged him out of the street, "See you love me so much. You don't want me to become an awesome pancake!"

 

Finland snuggled into him and blushed with affection. They were almost home when Finland smelled Fish n' chips coming from Ireland's pub. His stomach began to grumble.

Poor Austria's nerves were shot. "I-I'm tired. Do me a favor and get on your hands and knees. Please..."

Prussia raised an eyebrow. "Hm? Oh! You want to punish the awesome me? I've been waiting for you to grow a pair!" he joked, pausing for a moment to realize that Austria was serious.

"...?" Slowly, Prussia got in his hands and knees, wondering if Austria really was going to strike him.

Instead, Austria approached Prussia, turned around, and lowered himself onto Prussia's back, turning the silver-haired nation into a glorified chair.

"Ya wanna eat there?" Sweden asked, then led him inside. He was surprised to see so many people, but then, it was well into the evening. 

"Get out of my way!" An angry Romano, exiting the pub, pushed past Finland hard, knocking the Finn to the ground. Immediately, Sweden lifted Finland to his feet, brushed him off, and took a few steps toward the Italian, who, realizing he'd made a terrible mistake, cowered before the intimidating, and now definitely angry, Swede.

Prussia not wanting to be an embarrassing site for much longer. Began crawling on his hands and knees, getting increasingly faster. He rounded a corner with Austria cursing on his back. They were close to Ireland's Pub and in his mid gallop knocked into Romano.

Which caused Austria's head to land in Romano's lap. And when Prussia stood up, wiped his knees clean, then his hands. He stood up straight and was face to face with an angry Swede. 

Prussia smiled sheepishly. Pulling Romano to his feet. Causing Austria to bust his face on the ground before he had a chance to recover and Prussia shoved Romano in front of Sweden.

"Here, here is your guy." Then helped Austria up to hide behind him.

Austria rubbed his sore face, then scoffed and began walking away from Prussia in irritated silence, planning on taking out all of his frustrations on an unsuspecting piano. Maybe a Death Waltz or two would calm him down.

Sweden meanwhile gripped Romano's shirt, still very much angry about the fact that the Italian had knocked his wife onto the ground. Immediately it seemed, Spain was there, gripping Sweden's wrist until he let go of Romano, who then hid behind his Spanish partner.

"Hey big guy, Romano's my Finland, yeah? My wife. Well, not yet, but I'm hoping. So if you want to pick on him, how about picking on me instead? Mano a mano, entiendes?" [Hand to hand, (do you) understand?]

Romano turned red as a tomato when Spain mentioned him being his wife. Was that a proposal...??

"Förstås." Sweden responded. [Of course/Understood]

Finland immediately got between them and held his arms out. A hand against Spain's chest and a hand against Sweden's.  
"Please don't be doin this. There is no need for the violence, eh?"

Finland nodded and they headed inside. Once inside they heard Scotland and Ireland squabbling. 

"O'yea? Is that righ'then? You think you be better an me, eh? You smug lil'buggart. I could be cleanin this whole bar wit ya!" Scotland yelled. "The lass will be marry'un me someday. Not't'you!"

Finland sat in a corner booth with Sweden. Greenland walked up to them, and she gave them a forced smile. Due to the tension of the arguing. "How can I serve you?"

"Oh you'll be cleanin' the bar with me, will ya? Y'know those are some pretty big words for a wee lad like yourself. Don'tya need t'be changin' into yer skirt first?" Ireland taunted, and everyone was watching. Sweden noticed Finland was getting nervous, and moved around the table to put his arms around him to comfort his wife.

"Fish and chips." he told Greenland.

Austria was about to give Prussia more of a piece of his mind when they heard the commotion and went back to the pub to investigate. 

"Acting like a bunch of fools. We shouldn't get involved." Austria pointed out, only to look over where Prussia had been to find he was no longer there. He wondered if he could knock himself out by slamming his head into the wall.

"It'is ca*ll*ed (tongue rolling harsh with the L's) a keelt! But'chu problee wuldn't be knowin nothin bout that. Since you be drankin yer brain cells dead, now wuld you?!" Scotland practically screamed at him. While he rolled his flannel sleeves up.

Greenland put in the order. Then stood off to the side, biting her nails nervously. She didn't even know how it got to this point or even how it had started. All she had said was that Ireland's beard trim had looked nice and complimented Scotland on his new flannel shirt.

How that meant she was going to marry either of them. She had no clue. She was engaged to Iceland. And just like Germany he was descended from Vikings and not necessarily someone to mess with. But he was on a trip with Romania. Otherwise he would have bloodied them up by now.

Her hand hovered over the phone, Austria standing beside her. "I am calling Iceland."

America and Britain bumped into Germany and Italy on the way inside. Both exchanging that Greenland had called them and they better stop this quickly. 

Scotland took a swing at Ireland and got him in the gut. Ireland swung back getting him in the face. Germany stepped between them and both of them shoved him to the floor at the same time.

"Yew had t'call the fascist t'fight fer'yew did'ja? Seems like sum'tin a brain dead person wuld dew." Scotland called at Ireland (referring to Germany).

"As if I'd need someone's help ya dunce!" Ireland yelled, throwing himself at Scotland, fists flying.

Italy pulled out a white flag, waving it all over the place. "Guys! Guys! No fighting! Come on!" he cried, waving the flag harder.

Austria moved Greenland away from the phone. "Are you out of your mind? First, Iceland wouldn't get here in time. Second, even if he did, we want to stop the fight not turn it into the next world war!" He had her sit down and attempted to calm her as the others went to stop the fight.

Britain moved to pull Ireland off of Scotland, only to have the man turn and punch him in the face. He fell to the ground hard, holing his now bloodied nose in one hand. "Damn it!" he yelled.

Meanwhile, France sat in the corner of the bar, sipping his wine, not in the least bit concerned by the action surrounding him.

Sweden caught a bottle that had Scotland had thrown, aiming for Ireland, missing. It had flown in Finland's direction, and he was not about to let his wife get dragged into this. He crushed the bottle in his hand, dropped the pieces, and stepped toward the brawl.

"Damn American!" Ireland shouted, his hands gripping the other's arms in an attempt to pull him off. He continued to kick and squirm. "Get the hell off me!"

Meanwhile, Sweden squeezed Scotland's fist in his hand, his grip bordering on painful. The tall Swede stared daggers down at the drunken Scot. 

"Ya almost hurt m'wife." he stated.

It took a good long moment for them to get Ireland and Scotland to calm down. Even longer to get Sweden to calm down. When they were calm the two brawlers apologized to everyone, but not to each other. It was just the way the two were, always had been, and were probably going to always be.

Prussia stood in the middle of the crowd and shouted, "It was due to the grace of my awesome presence. That the fighting ended. I am a blessing. You all should be eternally grateful to me. I accept gratitude in the form of cash or unending servitude."

Austria grabbed the back of Prussia's shirt. "We're leaving. I don't know where you disappeared to, but now, it's time to go home." he dragged the silver-haired nation toward the door.

Sweden walked over to Greenland and the two of them spoke briefly before he returned to his wife carrying a plate of fish and chips, presenting it to him.

Britain was even more exhausted than he had been before, which was a feat. His nose had stopped bleeding, and it wasn't broken, so that was good.

"Germany, Germany!" Italy hugged his fiance. "That was scary! Fights are scary! Can we go home now?" 

And through all of this, France merely sat back and observed, sipping his wine. Now, however, his glass was empty, and it was time to go home. He stood, brushed out the wrinkles in his clothes, tipped Greenland and left, exuding an air of "le bye."


	4. I Do Declare!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is well...slightly disturbing and dark...there are quite a few triggers. theadminraptor and I wanted some drama. This story continues on later.
> 
> But yeah, triggers and feels ahead. You are warned.

China made his way to Japan's house, carrying a rather large sack of rice. Japan had said he was running low the night before, so he thought he would surprise the other with some. He hoped Japan would treat this as a gift and not a kindness that needed to be repaid, since he was like that sometimes.

Once he neared Japan's house, he realized that something was off. Japan's doors were wide open. It was the summer, however, not spring, so Japan wouldn't be airing out his house or anything like that, unless America had come over, but that couldn't be because it was early in the day and China had just been here last night for dinner. Japan made no mention of the western nation coming over.

"Hey, Japan!" China called as he stepped inside and set down the sack of rice. "Your doors are open. Did America barbecue in your house again?" he bent down to remove his shoes when he noticed that much more was off than the doors. He flinched has a glare of light shone in his eyes and he realized that the light was the light of the sun reflecting off of Japan's sword, which lay unsheathed on the ground. 

"Japan?" China called, becoming worried. Forgetting to remove his shoes, he moved through the house, becoming more afraid for Japan by the second. In the hall, the paper doors were sliced through, some knocked completely over. There had clearly been a fight of some sort, and he pulled out a small handgun, just in case, slowly making his way through the rooms.

Japan lay sprawled on the ground. At the moment he was unconscious and bleeding. Someone broke into his house during the night trying to kill him. They had come in through the front door while he slept. 

And first tried to smother him with a pillow. So he reached for the lamp on his nightstand. And hit them with it. It wasn't enough to take the unknown assailant down. They pursued him through the house until he could reach his sword. Japan managed to cut their shoulder, but before he could land a fatal blow. They pulled out a gun and shot him.

"Rìběn!" [Japan!] China shouted, putting his gun away and running over to him and dropping to his knees. He was still breathing. He was lucky to be alive, considering that it appeared he's been bleeding for quote some time, if the trail of blood and darkening of the blood stains were any indication.

Ripping Japan's top open, he gasped when he saw the bullet wound in his shoulder. Mere centimeters further and... Japan would have... No! He couldn't think about that right now! He examined the wound, turning Japan over gently, checking for an exit wound. It seemed the bullet had gone straight through, so that was one good thing (if you could call it that, good simply in the fact that China wouldn't have to dig it out). Now he needed to stop the bleeding.

He didn't want to leave Japan alone to go search for gauze, but he knew he had to, and knew Japan had a first-aid kit in the house. China moved as fast as his legs would carry him to grab it and began putting pressure and gauze over the wound as quickly and efficiently as he could. Once that was accomplished, he attempted to wake Japan, lightly tapping him on the cheeks at first, moving onto harder slaps as it became necessary.

"J-Japan...!" He watched his own tears fall on Japan's face, trying not to completely break down.

Japan winced, his eyes squeezing, and his jaw tightening. He could have sworn he heard China calling his name. Was it him? It couldn't be. Japan was dead. He had to be dead. Right? Would it hurt to open his eyes and make sure? No.

Slowly, his lids opened, and they looked around. Everything was hazy and seemed blurry. It must be from the blood loss. When his eyes could finally focus. They locked with China's.

"China?" China had been crying over him. Which made his heart heavy. "I have failed. I am no longer a samurai. I have brought shame on myself and you taisetsuna kokoro." ( taisetsuna kokoro = cherished heart) He was referring to the fact that he had been disarmed, failing to protect himself. Ultimately leading to him almost dying. That was not the way a samurai achieved greatness. His pride was hurt.

"Stop that. Don't say that." China responded. "You're living to fight another day. I'm assuming the samurai wouldn't let something like this stop him from getting back up and fighting on, would he?" he wiped his tears on his sleeves, as if to show Japan he was "okay." "Now what happened to you? Who did this?"

"You might be right." Japan felt his vision blur again. He had to close his eyes for a moment, which caused China to freak out some more. So he had to hurriedly open them again in order to calm him. "I don't know. They were disguised from head to toe. They broke in while I slept. Tried to smother me. I broke my lamp on their head. Got my sword. We fought. I cut them. Then they shot me. I must have hit my head hard on the floor when I collapsed."

China listened, then squeezed one of Japan's hands in his own. "Japan... We need to get you out of here. I'm going to carry you." he went into another room for a moment to grab a blanket, wrapping Japan carefully so that he would stay warm, which would hopefully prevent shock and, as gently as possible, lifted him into his arms. He needed to get better medical help, so China decided to take him to the world conference building. There, he could call a doctor and call a special meeting. Because this.. This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Britain had just arrived at America's house, carrying a DVD that America had demanded he borrow to watch. It was a typical American move--super macho superhero conflicted by something personal who ends up saving the day and getting the girl in the end. He had to admit though, as stereotypical as it was for his boyfriend's nation, it was entertaining.

The door was unlocked, which wouldn't normally surprise him, but he noticed marks against the lock and the side of the door, as though someone had tried to break in. He imagined America shooting a burglar and making him or her Swiss cheese, which is probably what would have happened.

He thought about knocking, but he had a bad feeling about... something. Even if someone had tried to break in, wouldn't America have replaced the lock by now since it was virtually useless? Or was he that careless? He pushed the door open. The living room was messy as usual, but it was awfully quiet. The television wasn't on... But he knew America would be watching one of his reality TV shows about now...

"America?" he called, moving into the kitchen to see if his ever-hungry boyfriend was frying up a hamburger or ten.

America was floating face down in the backyard of his in ground swimming pool. Not moving. His glasses shattered on the concrete surrounding it. It looked as if someone had poured gallons of red dye in the pool. 

Moments before Britain had arrived. America had slept in later than his per usual due to staying up all night with his online gaming. And this caused him to sleep well into the day. When he had woken, he noticed his front door was open. So he immediately ran to get his machine gun which he had lovingly named 'Kelly' after an Irish mobster from the Prohibition.

But Kelly wasn't there. That's when America had known something was definitely up and it wasn't at all good. So instead he grabbed his Tommy Gun, went through the house finding no one, and went outside.

Which he had found no one there either. He heard something glass break in the house. On instinct, he flipped his patio table over on it's side, dropped to his knees. Leveled his tommy gun on it, and waited for someone to come out of the house.

No one did. Instead he was met by gunfire emanating from Machine Gun Kelly. It tore through the table. He gasped as a bullet tore through his arm, his leg, grazed his side.

He dropped, rolling, and heading for the pool. Right before he rolled off the edge. He felt a bullet graze the side of his head. And with a plunk he was out cold. Face down. In the water.

Britain didn't even register that he was screaming as he raced to fish America out of the water. It didn't even matter that the intruders might still be there, his first and primary goal was to make sure America was still alive, consequences and risks of bodily harm be damned.

He jumped into the pool, wading over to where his boyfriend was and first turning him face-up, then dragging him out of the water, and laying him on the ground for a brief moment to get a look at the damage.

His lips were blue.

"Shit, shit!" Britain cursed, instantly on his knees and performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and chest compressions. His breaths came out in sobs as he worked.

"Bloody American. Is this what you promised the world? Funny, the last I recall, you could take a few bullets and a bit of water easy, right? Where's your spirit, you goddamned jackass?! I thought the American way was to die as a result of your gluttony!! BREATHE GOD DAMN IT."

America's chest rose and fell, as water gushed out. It flowed like a waterfall out of his mouth and nose. He sputtered as he tried to breathe.

Oh god. It burned. It burned so much. His lungs were on fire and everywhere he had been shot screamed in agony. 

The bleeding had momentarily stopped when he stopped breathing. Because the circulation had nearly stopped. But now that he was breathing and his heart was back to pumping full force. 

The place on his side that had been grazed began to bleed and flow under him.

America rolled on his side (that wasn't bleeding) and began throwing up and retching from the pressure of the water leaving him. Blood running into his eyes from his head wound.

The man had a concussion and slight memory loss. 

"Who are you? Did you do this to me?" America asked of Britain. His voice sounding harsh and scratchy from being drowned. "I think I need a doctor. But who am I?"

The Englishman was both shocked and hurt by the realization that America didn't recognize him. He couldn't be surprised, given the extent of the injuries that he had, but still, it hurt.

"Y-You don't... Know who I am?" he asked before shaking his head. "I'm a friend of yours, that's all. I... We need to get your wounds treated." Lifting America, he brought him into the kitchen, lying him on the table and checking the wounds. There were no clean towels (damn America and his perpetual laziness), so he searched for something else to use, finding a clean blanket and sheet in a linen closet. 

He also managed to find some gauze, but no medical tape--but he did find some duct tape. There was the a brief thought in his mind that America would probably later joke about this, that duct tape saved his life, but first they had to get that far.

The wound on his head wasn't too deep, but it bled a hell of a lot and he set to cover it with gauze and tape before moving to the wound in his side. The wounds in his arm and leg would be next. 

"I suppose you wouldn't happen to remember who did this to you, then?" It wasn't really a question; rather, Britain thinking aloud to try to keep himself from completely losing it as he treated his boyfriend. His voice was strained, cracking here and there, tears threatening to fall.

America pushed himself to remember and it hurt to try to remember. Causing him to wince and suck in a breath. The man who claimed to be his friend, told him not to worry about it, it didn't matter right now. But it mattered to him and whoever he was. Who *was* he though? Was this his house? He winced again and sucked in a breath.

The man asked him if it would be alright to pick him up. He felt bad, the man seemed to be really torn up about all of this, he must be someone close to him. But why couldn't he remember?

"I...I guess."

Britain wanted desperately to kiss America, thankful that he was alive. But he couldn't. He didn't want to risk his boyfriend pushing him away due to his loss of memory. He didn't even look the same without his glasses. It was almost too depressing to handle as he made sure his wounds would hold out at least until he could get help, and wrapped the blanket around him to keep him covered. In the process of checking the wounds, he'd had to cut one pant leg short, and one shirt sleeve completely off, so he'd look ridiculous if one wanted to nitpick at fashion (though Britain thought he'd just as well punch anyone who decided to bitch about that given the circumstances).

He was as gentle as he could be lifting the other blonde, but didn't fail to notice that America flinched. He had to hold it together. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he left, heading for the world conference building. He'd get help there, and find out who did this to America. This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sweden made his way back to the home he shared with Finland. Finland was adamant about eating more sardines and oranges, but they'd run out. Not one to leave his wife unsatisfied, he'd gone to get some. As he went further down the road, he noticed a couple sets of footprints that hadn't been there before, and wondered who had decided to visit. Probably Estonia, who had been coming over often to sit with Finland. Or maybe Norway or Iceland. Denmark wouldn't set foot on their property without his permission. Or maybe he would?

The thought irritated the Swede, but he let out a breath, thinking he was maybe thinking too hard about this. However, as he neared the house, he realized he might not have been thinking hard enough. There was glass on the ground on the side of the house, where the glass side door was. Hana-Tomago, the small white dog Finland had chosen to adopt, came running toward the Swede, whining.

He dropped his groceries and ran to the side of the house to go inside through the side door, sword drawn. Was a thief?

Finland had hid after the surprise attack. Just like Sweden had taught him to do just in case there ever was one. Not before the person had slammed his head down on the bathroom counter top after getting out of the shower. Which had caused his nose to bleed. When he turned around trying to defend himself, the person punched him in the face blacking his eye, and hit him again busting his lip wide open where you could see his bottom teeth through it. That would require stitches. 

The unknown assailant was hitting him so fast and so hard, he had no clue what to do. So he began crying, trying to cover his face with one arm, and protect his pregnant tummy with the other. The person punched him in the face again and backed off a bit. Finland sliding to the ground.

Finland on instinct curled up in a ball on his side, stomach facing the wall under the countertop so his tummy wouldn't be attacked. The assailant kicked him in the ribs and back with giant black combat boots. Finland knew that his back would be beyond bruise. He already had fair skin to begin with. 

When the person bent down to finish him off, Finland kicked out at the person and ran for it naked. Almost slipping on his own blood. Into the panic room. Then hid under the room's monitor system desk. Knees pulled up to his chest.

The assailant beat on the door and even tried to shoot at it. But it didn't work. Finland was safe.

All of this transpiring just a few moments before Sweden was a few blocks away. In an effort to finish of the sealed Fin. The attacker set the bedroom upstairs on fire as Sweden entered the house and hastily jumped out of the window. Disappearing.

Smoke. He smelled smoke! Sweden dropped his sword and made a beeline for the stairs, grabbing the fire extinguisher from the closet on the way, yanking the pin off as he stormed up the stairs. He stopped for a brief second in front of the bathroom, staring at the blood, eyes widening. 

"FIN!" He shouted, running toward the bedroom and staring in horror at the flames. He aimed at the base of the fires and let the fire extinguisher do its work. If he couldn't get all of it out, the whole house would end up burning down, but that wasn't his main priority.

Slowly, he worked his way through the flames, kicking down what was left of the bedroom door and noticing the door to the panic room was locked. Sweden had half-hoped that Finland wouldn't be anywhere near the fire, but this had quashed that. He continued to advance into the room, fighting the flames as he went until he reached the door.

"FIN! IT'S ME. I'M HERE. OPEN THE DOOR!" he called.

Finland heard Sweden's booming and almost godlike voice. The shaken up man at first was afraid to move. Paralyzed by fear. But it was his husband come to rescue him. Slowly he crawled. When he had made it to the panic room. He realized his ribs were bruised. So he crawled, holding his tummy as he did, and stretched an arm up to hit the button to open the door. 

The pain became to much and though he was already on his knees, his naked body collapsed. Finland began sobbing again. "Swee-Sweden. I am frightened very."

He was about to say that he wanted to go home, but he was home. He no longer wanted to be here. He was afraid. So scared.

Sweden managed to get the last of the flames extinguished and threw the extinguisher onto the floor, turning to give Finland his full attention. There was enough smoke that he couldn't be sure if anything were still smoldering or able to reignite, so his first order of business was to mentally shut down and get Finland out of the area first, pulling him up into his arms and leaving the room, heading for the downstairs bedroom and laying him down on the bed temporarily. 

It was then that he was able to get a good look at his wife's body, 

Finland's nose was clearly broken, one eye was still in the process of swelling shut, and oh Odin, his lip. The beautiful face that was almost always smiling now was bruised, bleeding, and contorted in fear and despair. Sweden's heart was breaking with each tear and sob his wife cried.

That wasn't even mentioning the deep bruises all over his body, particularly on his back.He had Finland lay on his side to examine his back, and the bruises there were darker than the rest, growing in size as the minutes ticked by. He was pretty sure there was at least one or two cracked, if not broken, ribs.

"'m sorry." Sweden said, very delicately lifting Finland's upper body to hold him. "'m sorry, Fin. 've failed. Was supposed t' protect ya... 'm sorry..." He held his wife against his chest as his broad shoulders began to quiver. What the hell good was he if he couldn't protect Finland? What the hell kind of husband was he? What the hell kind of father would he be if he couldn't even keep his family safe?

Finland said nothing, he was too frightened, instead he clung to Sweden. He clung so tightly that his nails dug into his back and his sobbing face nuzzled in the crook of his husband's neck.

To say he was a nervous wreck - would be a *massive* understatement. His body shook uncontrollably, his grip became tighter, and his nails dug in deeper. His fingertips clawing, trying to get closer to Sweden.|

Sweden had told him that he had to get dressed. But he didn't want to, Sweden finally pried him off enough. But this caused Finland to rock. Going into mental shock.

"Fin..." Sweden said, snapping his fingers in front of Finland's face to try to get him out of his shock, to get him to focus. He needed to know what Finland had seen of his attackers. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get his wife to come out of the shock at that time. He needed to get him help.

He left the room momentarily and saw his sword lying on the ground. He picked it up and slid it through his belt where it belonged, then went to get the Finn some clothes.

Grabbing a pair of pajama pants, he slipped them on his wife's legs as swiftly and gently as possible. The Fin had started to fight against him--well, not against him per se. In his own mind, Finland was fighting against his attackers. He couldn't see Sweden. Seeing his wife like this was tearing him apart.

He slid off his coat and wrapped it around Finland's shoulders, lifting him carefully in order to carry him out of there. Glass crunched beneath his feet as he exited the house, reassuring Finland that he was safe, that no one would hurt him again, that he was there, as he made his way to the world conference building. He didn't know who had harmed his wife, but he would find out, and he would destroy them.

This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Germany hadn't seen Italy in a couple of days. But this was because Italy wanted to prepare his house for Germany. He had felt bad that he was staying over there so much and wanted to incorporate his own hospitality. Germany had thought it was adorable.

After the first day of talking on the phone. Everything was fine. But the second day he hadn't heard from him - not even a text. This was odd to him and slightly worried him. Either he was *in* trouble or he was *making* trouble.

When he arrived everything looked fine on the outside. The yard was kept on, his vegetable garden was thriving especially the tomatoes. Germany smiled as he knocked on the door. No answer. He called Italy's home phone. He heard it ringing, but no one answered. So he called Italy's cellphone and heard it ringing inside the house. That was odd.

Italy could forget and misplace a lot of things. But his cellphone wasn't one of them - he was a social butterfly to the core.

"Italy!" Germany exclaimed. "Are you home?" Just before he knocked again, he saw someone dressed in black jump from out of a window and take of running.

"Italy?!" Germany kicked down the door. Even though the outside looked cheery and inviting the inside was dreadful.

Furniture was upturned, pictures knocked of the walls, broken glass everywhere. But where was Italy?

"ITALY?! ITALY?!" Germany yelled.

It had all started shortly prior to Germany's arrival. Italy had just arrived home, both arms full of groceries--it was a miracle he'd managed to open his front door at all, really. He kicked the door shut behind him and set the sacks of groceries on the kitchen counter, pulled out his cellphone and checked his texts, grinning when he noticed Germany had sent him one. Before responding, he set his phone to the side and rolled up his sleeves. He'd been planning on surprising Germany by inviting him the next time he made dinner. He was going to learn how to cook wurst properly for his fiance. He didn't particularly care for it, but he knew Germany loved it, and that was all that mattered.

He'd make pasta for a side, of course.

He heard the front door open and close, then heard the click of the lock. It was unusual. Had Germany decided to visit him early? Or had Romano come home? Setting a pot to boil on the stove and turning on the heat, he headed back to the main room. He made it just past the archway when something--someone--was on top of him, and suddenly he was being struck with something blunt. A bat? A stick? One of those really long flashlights? He didn't know. He was stunned as the first blow hit the side of his head and the other side slammed hard into the floor.

Instinctively, he brought his arms up to defend himself, which didn't help much at first, until he managed to grasp whatever he was being beaten with, managing to pull it out of his attacker's hand. It went flying and he heard something glass break. Kicking hard, he broke free and scrambled to his feet, only to be slammed into the opposite wall. Pushing away, he flipped over the couch as he backed away, then bolted into the kitchen aiming for his phone. 

He was tackled before he could reach the counter and the man was on top of him, striking him in the face. He didn't even register the blood pouring from his nose or the side of his head where he'd been struck before, there was so much adrenaline flowing through his veins. He did, however, register the flash of silver he saw before there was a searing pain in his side, followed by a pool of warmth. He'd been stabbed. His arm caught the second slice as he attempted to shield himself. His shoulder took the the third.

His attacker must have thought him done at that point, or close to it, because he got off. He wasn't the only one who thought so. Even Italy was convinced he was as good as dead. He heard the man walking around, destroying whatever he pleased, as if he hadn't done enough damage. Italy had closed his eyes, sobbing softly as he heard his house phone ring, then his cell phone. He wanted Germany. 

His head was spinning from blood loss, and he thought he was hallucinating when he heard Germany's voice. He was sure he was just dead.

Germany stepped over everything and made it to the kitchen. There was blood. Everywhere there was blood. Blood seemed to paint everything. Germany's heart and stomach dropped from the bottom of his body. His eyes darting everywhere trying to find the source. When he finally did find Italy. 

Germany...Germany fucking lost it. He let out a primal sound between a growl and a pained sob. Then dropped to his knees next to Italy. Italy's eyes were open but barely. His pulse was weak and faint. It was a good thing Germany was an experienced field medic. 

He had to stop the bleeding. He just had to and it would be hard and it would hurt Italy. But there was no other choice. The stab wound in his side was too deep, he had nothing to stitch him up with. So he turned on the stove, thankful it was gas, and heated a knife on the flame. Then held the skin together as he seared it shut.

Italy let out an excruciated whimper and Germany hadn't realized he was crying himself until is tears fell on Italy's face. The other two wounds he wrapped up, he then placed him in his coat. Swaddling and cradling him to him.

"I should have come sooner. I should have known. I should have just made you stay at my house and not worry about coming over. I love you Italy." He kissed him and buried his face into Italy's chest.

Germany's mind racing to the night terrors that he had. The ones where Italy had gone to war with him when he was known as HRE. Where Germany was almost impaled with a spear, but Italy took it for him. The shaft driving through his armored plate, through his chest, and effectively pinning in the ground.

"Please don't leave me." Germany weeped. "DON'T LEAVE ME! OH GOD...."

Italy raised his uninjured arm to run a hand through Germany's hair, as if confirming that he was real. He was terribly confused as a result of blood loss, not to mention the strikes to his head, wondering why Germany was crying.

"Germany? Did the wurst I made taste that bad? I thought I got the right ingredients. Or did I overcook the pasta? I'm sorry." he stroked Germany's hair, smiling. "I'll do better next time. And maybe you can reward me with another kiss? I like those."

Germany couldn't believe him. Then again he could. That after everything that happened to him. No matter how horrible. H thought of others before thinking about himself. That was Italy for ya.

It almost made Germany smirk, but his tears kept him from doing so.  
"They tasted perfect Italy." Germany giving him a kiss.

"I'm so glad." Italy said once their lips parted, allowing his hand to fall. It hit the floor, and he felt something warm. Confused, he raised his hand back up. It was covered in blood, droplets flowing from his palm down his forearm. 

He let out a small laugh. "Weird. How did I manage to get sauce on the----" He stopped, eyes widening as he realized what it was. It was not sauce at all. His smile vanished as the memories and realization of what had happened crashed into his mind.

His expression changed to one of frozen terror. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing in focus, his mind shutting down though he remained physically conscious.

Germany didn't know what else to do. There was an infirmary at the World Conference Center. And though he had partially stabilized Italy. He wasn't exactly out of the woods yet. Germany needed to get him there quickly. So he tightened the swaddle of his coat on him and rushed him there.

The war fueled German would not this go lightly. He would have a schmorgesborg of corpses before him before all this was through.

This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Prussia had spent his day shopping. Because, well, he had to have the best of everything. Top of the line.Or he just wouldn't be awesome. He decided that Austria might be lonely and would probably be bored without Prussia's company. So he decided to do him a favor and stop by. 

Prussia pulled up in his new flashy sportscar right off the lot. Boy would Germany and America be envious of his new wheels! He chuckled at his handsome self in the mirror. Then jumped out and nearly skipped up to the door. 

After he opened the door with a slam. He threw his arms wide open and announced, "Honey. I am home! Come give me the smoochies!"

No piano music? That was weird. Not necessarily uncommon, but weird. Prussia bounded down the halls to the bathroom. Sometimes Austria enjoyed soaking in a bubble bath with wine and listening to classical music on his earphones.

But he wasn't there.

"AUSTRIA!!!" Prussia called and then whined, "This isn't funny anymore." A pout clearly on his face.

Maybe he had went downstairs to take inventory of his wine. Prussia found him at an awkward angle at the bottom of the stairs.

"Okay Austria. Hahahaha. You're so funny and clever. You can get up now." Prussia poked him with his new sneakers. "Austria. This is no longer funny." As if it had been funny in the first place. "Austria?"

Austria, lying face down on the ground, one arm awkwardly twisted behind him and one leg still resting on the bottom step while the other arm and leg were curled beneath him, let out a groan, turning his head toward Prussia.

His glasses were shattered and there was a deep gash on one side of his face. He was only semi-conscious at best, and he coughed hard, blood leaking from his mouth with each cough. Beneath the cover of his jacket, more blood could be seen, but it couldn't be sure from that angle how much blood there was, or the extent of his injuries. He only ever wore his jacket in the cool mornings, and it was large on him, covering a significant area around him, hiding blood.

It hadn't started out as a bad morning--if Austria ignored Prussia's existence, anyway. Prussia had dashed out of the house while Austria stood in the foyer, complaining about how Prussia was spending too much money, even sarcastically mentioning that he hadn't even bothered to ask what Austria wanted him to pick up, or so much as given him a goodbye kiss. For the record, Prussia attempted to give him a smooch afterward only to be rejected with Austria saying it meant nothing if he had to be asked to do it.

It wasn't long after that that someone had broken in through the back door. Austria was about to remove his clothes to get into the bath when he heard footsteps. 

But one does not simply break into Austria's house. No, Sir.

Immediately, Austria reached behind the tub, drawing out a rapier for one hand, and a dagger for the other. He would have wondered if it was Prussia walking around, but Prussia had a habit of making himself known, even if no one could hear him.

(By the way, the answer to the age-old question "If a Prussia falls in the middle of the forest and no one is around to hear him, does he still make a sound?" is an absolute YES.)

"You'd better make yourself known." Austria said, calm as he exited the bathroom, his back against the wall to avoid any sort of surprise attack.

The man's black garb was a stark contrast to the white of the marble floor. He couldn't have hidden if he'd wanted to. But he didn't seem to want to. He pulled a gun out, but that was quickly lost as Austria threw his dagger. It stuck in the center of the man's palm, and as he screamed, Austria advanced--only to jump back as the man yanked out the dagger and threw it back, then drew a blade of his own.

How the two of them managed to swordfight and not destroy the furniture is currently beyond me, but I wouldn't put it past Austria. And all was supposedly well (as well as could be, anyway) until the man managed to cut into his face. The injury stunned him, and the assailant took advantage of that, cutting hard slashes into Austria's torso beginning at the shoulders, making a sort of X of slashes. By then, Austria dropped his rapier, and the man ran at him in an attempt to run the blade right through him.

Had he been against a wall, it would have worked. Instead, though it did stab into his lower abdomen, Austria had been standing near the entrance to the cellar, and the momentum propelled him backward, sending him crashing down the steps, where he instantly blacked out.

Prussia's white tipped tennis shoe came back red. And he let out a gasp. "Austria..this is serious!" Prussia leaned down and started pulling him up into a sitting position. Blood coated his fancy new leisure suit, but he didn't care,

Prussia maybe pompous and overly full of himself. But there was one thing he loved more than himself and his utmost epic awesomeness - Austria. 

Austria was his world and if he lost Austria. What was there left for him? He needed him to complete himself. Prussia began to sob and cradle Austria to him.

"Wifey? I love you. Please don't die. Come one." He was crying so hard that he began hiccuping. "Let's get you fixed up, ja? Good as new!"

Prussia had no medical skills not even basic ones. He couldn't even apply a bandaid. He was helpless without Austria. The only other thing he knew of was to take Austria to the world conference center.

So he lifted him into his arms and carried him to his car.

"H-Hey idiot," Austria mumbled, flinching from pain as Prussia neared his car. "Get some towels... I'll ruin your seats... And I'm not your wife... yet..." It was too hard to talk, so he shut up. He wanted to sleep. So tired...

"I will just have it cleaned. I am not worried about it." Prussia said as he sat Austria inside. He knew by the way he had said 'idiot' that it was the equivalent of 'sweetheart'. But he wasn't concerned about that now. He was concerned about losing his fiance. 

After buckling in Austria and closing his door. He got inside and peeled out, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

Whoever had done this would pay. Yes, most of the time Prussia expected Austria to fight his battles for him. But this was serious. He would obliterate them, if not with his radical awesomeness, then with precise and fluent debauchery of the most evil kind.

This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland had just come home from his trip with Romania. While he always enjoyed a trip away here and there, he couldn't wait to just sit at home and relax for a while. He wondered what Greenland would decide to make for dinner that night . 

He also couldn't wait to show her the gift he'd picked up for her. They'd been dating for years now, and she'd joked about marriage here and there. He'd been waiting for the right time to surprise her with a proposal, and he figured that tonight was the night. He was home after a while away, and he knew that she wouldn't be expecting it. Smiling to himself as he lowered a hand over the coat pocket containing the ring, he approached the front door, reaching for the doorknob.

But the door, he realized, was already open. Greenland wouldn't leave the door open, and he hadn't told her he'd be coming home this early in the day. It didn't make any sense. Pushing the door open slowly, he stepped inside. 

"Green? The front door was open."

It was eerily quiet in the house. There was no response, nor the sound of footsteps that would signify that Greenland was even there. He closed the door behind him and slowly made his way through the house.

"Green?" he called as he walked. As the silence dragged on, an uneasy feeling settled over him. Where was she?

Greenland had been in the backyard tending to Iceland's grape vines. Making sure that they grew to their best potential. When she had felt someone grab her plaited ponytail and drag her to the ground. Her hair being so long, they wrapped it around her neck, and tried to strangle her with it. Greenland's hair almost like a silver noose about her throat. Her green blue eyes widening as she chocked.

The person picked her up, her back to their chest, and pulled the hair rope tighter. Greenland kicked and fought.

But what was so heavy in her hand? Oh yes! The pruning shears she had been using. Swiftly she snipped her braid off. Which cropped her hair to her shoulders. She began stabbing them with the shears.

But before she could fatally harm them. They picked up a loose brick from the walkway and smacked her in the face with it. Then began to strangle her with the braid she cut off. They couldn't finish the job because Iceland came home.

Blood flowed over her face, staining her silver blue hair red - from the brick bashing. Greenland's own face turning blue her lips almost purple.

It didn't make any sense. No one was in the house, and nothing had been taken. Iceland stood in the kitchen for a moment, trying to make sense of it. Clearly someone intended to get in the house...

...And if they were after Greenland, she might have stepped outside.

The back door was wide open, and he could see her lying in the garden near the grape vines. And... And blood...

It was surreal, running toward Greenland. With each step he took he tried to assure himself that this wasn't happening, that it wasn't blood, but something else he was seeing, but it was a lie. It only got worse as he neared her. There were deep gashes on her face, dark bruises, and a lot of swelling, and a brick lying next to her face covered in blood. Whoever had struck her clearly meant to kill her.

If that hadn't confirmed it, the marks on her neck--from her own hair?--did. He could see the shears lying at her fingertips, covered in blood. She'd fought back, and cut her hair in the process.

"Greenland! Greenland, wake up!" he knelt to her side and lifted the upper portion of her body. This couldn't be happening. Tonight... Tonight was supposed to be special... And now...

Greenland felt her abdomen being compressed. Along with lips on hers. It was CPR. And Iceland was performing it. Iceland? He was home. Why was he crying?

Oh god. Her head hurt she tried to quickly sit up, but Iceland held her fast. He seemed to be so glad that she was awake.

"They got away?" She asked.

"Who? They who?!" Iceland was trying not to shout, but he was overcome with emotion. Terrified, really. Had he come any later, she might have... He would have lost her. Oh God.

"Do you know who attacked you, Greenland?" He tried to keep his voice steady, but failed.

"No. They tried strangling me with my hair, I cut my hair.....stabbed them. They hit me and took my cut hair back to me...I couldn't breathe..." That's when Greenland started crying. Realizing she had almost died. "They wore all black."

There was a buzzing through the air. Greenland's eyes went wide, her back went straight as a board, body completely rigid. Blood sprayed from her mouth all over Iceland. It was an arrow. It went into the back of her shoulder and out of the far edge of her chest.

There was another whistling sound.

Iceland was yelling, pulling both of them down to the ground as a second arrow flew just above them. He knew that if something impaled someone, the best thing was to not immediately remove it, but it was nearly impossible to resist the urge to pull the arrow out of Greenland.

He lifted her into his arms and ran back inside, setting her on the ground for a moment to turn and look to see if he could see anyone. But they must have fled, because he saw nothing.

He heard his girlfriend groaning from the pain and went back to her side. The arrow had to come out. If he didn't remove it, the movement in the car could make it worse. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Greenland. Forgive me!" he thought about snapping the head of the arrow off, but it was not a high quality arrow. The shaft itself would splinter, and all it would take was one shard in her body to kill her later. So he had to pull it out whole. 

He screamed with her, sobbing as he put pressure on both sides of the wound, using his jacket to soak the blood. 

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" he repeated.

Greenland fainted from the pain, but when she woke up. It was to a cold compress on her wounds. There was blood all over Iceland's face and chest and arms....her blood. She had never seen him look so broken before.

He twirled the arrow shaft between his fingertips and seemed to be hypnotized by it. When she wheezed for breath and whimpered in pain. He snapped out of it.

We're going to get you help." He said, but his voice sounded far away to himself. He didn't even know who he was trying to reassure more, himself or Greenland. Pulling her into his arms, he stood and made his way to the car.

He didn't know who did this to her, but they would pay dearly. He had plenty of weapons, and he'd be sure to use every single one in some way. Even if he killed them though, it wouldn't be enough. But he could settle with that.

He'd go to the world conference building and call a doctor, then demand to know who was behind this. This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Denmark had decided to go for a bike ride. And while he was out he had wanted to visit his favorite places and contemplate where he was going in life.

Germany and Italy were getting married. Sweden and Finland were having a baby. Iceland was going to propose to Greenland. What were he and Norway going to do?

When it had started to get late in the day. Denmark rode his bike back home. Or what was once his home. All of the windows were broken out. The door was splintered like toothpicks. The interior of the house was unrecognizable.

"Norway?! NORWAY ---- Norway?!" Denmark shot through the house like a pinball.

Norway opened his eyes, but all he saw was red, and he wondered how it had come to this. His broken body lay in a heap in the dining room, buried beneath the pieces of what was once a dining set--table and chairs. Now, the most they could be useful for would be firewood.

He didn't remember much except for an explosion. He didn't know where the bomb came from, or who even placed it. All he knew was a loud boom that shook the whole house, hitting the wall, and then black. 

His ears were still ringing, and he wasn't able to hear anything except that. He had screamed earlier, but couldn't even hear himself over the ringing. Now he lay silent, waiting to die. Everything hurt. There was a slice in his forehead, and the blood from that dripped into his eyes, affecting his vision. And he could feel warmth beneath him, which was caused by a splintered chair leg that had punctured his lower right abdomen. Every time he took a breath, he could feel more blood coming out, along with the pain of his muscles sliding against it. Maybe he should stop breathing.

Glass from the vases that had been sitting on the table was embedded in various places in his body--his arms, a few in his cheek, and some in his legs. He even tasted blood, but he wasn't sure if that was because of some internal injury or because he'd bitten his tongue.

He didn't now how long he'd been lying there. All he knew was that he was probably going to die, and it wasn't that fact that hurt him the most. It was the fact that he would never see Denmark again, and that Denmark would probably be the one to find him. He couldn't imagine what that would do to him. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." he felt his mouth moving but he couldn't hear himself over the ringing. Tears mixed with blood streaked down the sides of his face.

Denmark pulled the axe from his back and wandered through the house. So far there was no one. No sign of Norway. Wait. What was that? He had heard a weak voice apologizing. He followed the sound and crouched down.

"My love." More anger than sadness filled him. In a flash he was unburying him. And saw he was impaled severely.

This. None of this. No. Just no. It couldn't be happening. It was impossible. He was dreaming.

Norway looked so full of pain that Denmark could die. When enough of the debris was cleared, he methodically began to pull him out. Without harming his lover further.

"Denmark..." Norway said, as the Dane began to remove him from what he had been sure would be the place of his death. He could see the other man's mouth moving, but the ringing was so loud that he couldn't hear him at all.

"...Can't hear you." he said.

Denmark read his lips and he should have known as blood oozed from his ears. Of course. He should have known. The explosion caused his ear drums to burst. How could? Why would....someone do this?! None of this made a lick of sense.

The Dane ripped his own shirt to strips and tried apply pressure and ties offs to most of what he was able.But the damage was extensive and was considerably fatal.

Even if he did heal....he could very well be paralyzed. Even deaf. No! Denmark couldn't think of any sort of thing like that, right now.

Norway needed a doctor immediately. 

Denmark rushed Norway to the World Conference Center, faster than any ambulance could. There would be hell to pay! There would be retribution. There would be suffering.

This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Stupid jerk bastard." 

Romano sighed as he continued to clean. It was his own fault though, not Spain's, that he'd decided to surprise the Spaniard with a clean house. He was going to go home, but Italy had called the day before, telling him he was planning a surprise for Germany.

"Stupid potato bastard."

This had left Romano at Spain's house, and over the course of a few days, it was a mess. While Spain was as breezy and carefree as ever, Romano noticed the look of exhaustion on his face. He was working too hard, and didn't have the energy to clean his house--and he'd learned from centuries of living with Romano when he was a child that asking Romano to clean wasn't always the best idea. Usually it resulted in a toppled bookcase or two, and that was if the Italian actually gave the effort to try. Most of the times, however, he'd ignored the Spaniard, but Spain never seemed to mind in the end.

Spain would be home soon, he knew, and he'd been cleaning (successfully) for hours to surprise him. The living room was perfect, the dishes done, the kitchen mopped, the bathroom cleaned, the hall swept... 

In short, it was time for a nap! Spain would be so happy, especially since Romano hadn't broken anything or knocked over a bookshelf this time. But it had exhausted him, and he knew Spain would be so giddy he'd probably wake him up, which was fine with him. He yawned, removed his shirt, threw it in the hamper, and made his way to the bedroom. 

He closed the door behind him, and had almost made it to the bed when something hard struck him in the side of the head, throwing him off balance. He fell to the floor, stunned, reaching for his head. His hair was warm and wet, and when he checked his hand, he realized it was blood.

But he didn't get a chance to react before someone (or multiple someones?) was kicking him, punching him. At one point, Romano tried to flee the room, but the door was locked and he didn't have enough time to unlock it before he was in a choke-hold. 

It was definitely more than one person. As Romano struggled against the man choking him, the other attacker punched him over and over in the gut. He was sure to have a few broken ribs by the end of it. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he fought to breathe, his arms falling to his sides, limp as he began to pass out. Next he knew, he was thrown on his bed, there was the sound of a gunshot, and pain shooting through his left shoulder. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the blanket being tossed over him.

Spain was more than exhausted. Between having Romano as a room mate and a stressful lover. Though he didn't care to complain. He loved him just fine. And trying to run his country. France suggested that he should come to his winery and spend an afternoon of unwinding. Which he accepted.

In hindsight he shouldn't have. France tried using it as an excuse to get him drunk and try to seduce him. France had indeed succeeded in getting him drunk, but failed at bedding Spain.

Spain was in love with Romano through and through. Not only that...After years of being spurned by Romano and years of finally opening up to each other...the painful process of slow courtship to gain Romano's trust as a lover.

The Spaniard wasn't going to up and throw that away over some perverted French playboy. Who wanted nothing for than a string of one night stands. That was not Spain.

Spain had just entered the house and was shocked. It was spotless. Some spots even sparkled and shined. It was amazing! On the counter was a folded note, set up like a time tent, "I cleaned your trashy hobble. It was disgusting! Pigs live cleaner than that. You can thank me later with an edible dinner. I am napping now. Do not disturb!"

Spain smiled feeling the love and caring behind it's written words. Though Romano had asked not to be disturbed. Spain at least wanted to give him a forehead kiss as he slept.

Being careful not to rouse him. Spain left the light out and tiptoed into the room, he saw Romano's sleeping frame, and being as tired as he was...he yawned with confirmation. That he would nap with him for an hour or so and then make him a 'thank you' dinner.

As Spain laid beside him, and put an arm around him. He felt an odd dip on Romano's side. Where his ribcage was. Spain's mind went '?!?!'. He quickly grabbed his shoulder to shake him awake. Spain felt something warm and sticky, he smelled his fingertips.... Oh no! Mother Mary have mercy!

Spain scrambled out of bed and turned on the light. A white sheet draped over him and a red blotch bloomed on it - his shoulder. Spain with trembling fingers pulled the sheet away.

Romano was bruised and bloodied. From receiving a beating and had been shot. Then left for dead.

"Rono (his pet name)....Rono?" Spain inquired. He lightly shook him.

Romano groaned, then cried out from pain. He also flinched, fearing he was about to be hit again. It took him a few moments to realize that Spain was there and that he wasn't going to be hurt further.

"E-España..." he said, clearly terrified.

Spain nodded as he blinked back tears that threatened to overtake him. Even with broken ribs and shot shoulder...he still should be able to at least hobble Spain thought to himself. After lending Romano his decorative cane for black tie affairs. He helped him to the car.

Several times Rono winced, hissed, and cried out in pain. Which made Spain want to cry more and made it even more harder to stay strong for his partner.

"We are going to the WCC Rono. Is that okay?" He asked. Whether he agreed or not he was going. He had just learned to ask Romano things before doing them. Else he was likely to get angry even if he refused in the end.

Romano maybe fiery and aggressive. But he had never really given anyone a reason to murder him in cold blood. Had he? This was a declaration of war.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The World Conference Center saw a mess of activity that day with various countries coming in with their injured brethren. Doctors and even surgeons had been called in and some of the rooms had become emergency make-shift hospital rooms. 

Britain sobbed, holding America's hand and trying his best to keep his boyfriend calm as the surgeon had to dig through his leg to get the bullet out. The one in his arm had come out easily, but they had to be careful with the one in his leg, as it had nicked an artery, so they couldn't just go straight in like they had before. They had to work around the wound, and there was only so much pain morphine could block out. Every time America cried out, it crushed Britain.

Japan was unconscious but stable, which was the only reason that China hadn't completely broken down. The doctors carefully closed his wound, but wanted him to stay there so they could at least monitor him for some time. China kissed Japan's hand, though it was still covered in dried blood, before he left the room to let him rest. He saw Russia walking through the hall. He'd come to lend aid, volunteering Estonia and Lithuania to help the doctors.

"Did you do this?" China yelled at him, overcome with stress and all too willing to take it out on someone else.

"What? No, I am not responsible party." Russia responded, raising his hands up as if to prove he was not hostile.

"Don't you fucking lie! I know you've been angry with him ever since he handed your happy Soviet ass to you in 1905!" He shook Russia hard, surprised when Russia's face was suddenly close to his.

"If I had wanted to kill, there would not have been failure, da?" Russia stared China down. But China had to give him that, as much as he didn't want to.

Sweden watched as the doctors helped his wife, holding Finland's hand as they stitched his lip back together and checked for broken bones. Finland was still in shock, and he was given a bit of morphine not only for the pain, but also to hopefully help him calm down. 

The doctors were terribly intimidated by Sweden, and the former viking wasn't even attempting to hide that he was pissed. Once Finland had fallen asleep, Sweden left the room. It was a bad idea, really, since he managed to walk out at the same time as Denmark, and suddenly the two were on top of each other. 

"Damn it, Sweden! If you wanted a fight you could have asked for it! Why the hell would you attack Norway?"

"Didn't. Did ya attack m'wife?"

"Why the hell would I do that?" The two continued to argue with each other.

Iceland held back the tears that wanted to break through as he watched Greenland be treated by doctors. Greenland was crying hard enough, he didn't want to scare her with his own tears anymore. 

"It's going to be okay. I'm going to make everything okay." One way or another, he would. He could hear the others fighting out in the hall, and would be out there soon enough to join them.

Germany had walked out in the hall and shouted, "Everyone. Just needs to shut the fuck up and sit down right now! We all are suffering terrible slights against us!"

Denmark turned, "This is coming from the reigning Aryan gestapo, no? Who butchers the good Jewish people? Completely skilled in annihilating groups of people."

Germany looked at him like 'You can't be serious'.

"Do I believe you are saying, I tried to kill my own wife?!" Germany asked incredulously.

"If the combat boot fits." Denmark sneered getting in his face. All of the victims recalling combat boots on their attackers.

"He is right!" Prussia gasped. "Look! He wears them now!"

Spain came out of his room and grabbed Denmark by his shirt, very rarely did he get mad, "You want to be makin the accusations, eh? Most everyone was stabbed and gutted." Spain ran a finger on his axe's blade. "You has this weapon, no?" He smirked as Denmark blanched. "I don't think any of us did this. But don't light your own pyre on a witch hunt."

Iceland stepped out into the hall. Greenland was resting and there was hell to pay. But where to start looking?

"Greenland?" Sweden asked, stepping up next to him.

"She's fine, now. Well, as fine as she can be..."

"'nd the babe?" Sweden watched as Iceland gave him a curious look.

"The... The what? The... Babe..." Oh no. Oh, no no no. He ran back into the room to talk with the doctors that were attending to his girlfriend, demanding to know if she was pregnant. One of the doctors gave him a sympathetic look, saying the child was fine as far as they could tell. 

Iceland was now beyond livid. He stormed from the room, and Sweden had to hold him back from going on a rampage against everyone.

Throughout all of the commotion, no one seemed to notice as Switzerland stepped inside. He was dragging someone wearing all black behind him, bound by intricate knots of rope and chains. Unable to get the attention of the bickering nations, he pulled out his gun and fired a shot into the ceiling of the room, effectively silencing everyone.

"Someone's got some serious explaining to do, because I caught this guy going after Liechtenstein, and whomever he belongs to is about to get a bullet to the face. Which one of you is going to be eating lead today?" He was seething. Liechtenstein stood in the doorway, clearly terrified, though unharmed.

Everyone set on telling him their tales one by one. Making sure to keep them short and proving their innocence. Switzerland thought through what he had just heard and then pointed at the person with his gun, "Then who the is this, hm?"

They looked at Switzerland and then at the man. All saying they didn't know. "Then shall we see?" He asked the nations. They agreed and the mask was ripped off in one smooth motion. Switzerland pointed the gun at him, he wasn't from any known nation, "Who are you? Where do you hail from?"

Before the man could answer, there was a multi colored, multi nationed, multi cultural blur flying at him, and Switzerland slid out of the way.

Sweden was the first one to get to him, lifting him up and slamming him hard into the wall. The others stood around him, their weapons drawn and definitely ready to kill.

The man glared at them at first, not initially intimidated, and knowing that they wouldn't get anywhere if he said nothing.

"You might want to cooperate," Britain said. "Maybe you won't suffer if you do. So, who do you work with?"

"As if I'd help you out." the man snarled.

"Cut his tongue out." Denmark suggested.

"Idiot! He won't be able to speak if we do that." Germany responded.

"Well we need to do something!" China said, pulling out a small blade. "I say we cut off the tips of his fingers. It's not a human rights violation unless we say so, right?"

"I would like to help with the applying of the pressure!" Russia offered, pulling out his magic pipe of pain.

"You damn rich westerners!" The man yelled, finally starting to struggle. "You think you can just make up the rules and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist? You think you can just do whatever you want against the will of God? He will strike you all down, as you should already be able to see!"

Spain scoffed at him. If he knew anything of being a martyr to your religion. It was him. The devout, Spanish catholic. But he wasn't about to get into semantics with the others. There was torturing to be done! Revenge to be had. Justice!

"God told me to strike all of you down. Starting with your obvious weakness's. I am the destroyer of nations! Precursor to the rapture! Righteousness be mine!" The man was belligerent verbally and you could tell was certifiably insane.

But whoop dee doop! No one cared.

"I have a proposal." Prussia said. "We divide him up where we stand at now - whatever body part is in front of you. And have at it."

"I don't mind sharing." Grinned Denmark evilly.

"Me neither." Leered Germany.

"Good then. Its settled." China stated.

The man screamed, wailed, and gnashed his teeth. As blood splattered everywhere in the surgery room they borrowed. Not caring if they used dirty tools. Nothing was left except several baggies in the bio hazardous waste bin.


	5. Full Steam Ahead

Iceland carried Greenland back to their home once she was considered stable enough to do so. He'd be taking her to constant appointments over the course of the next few weeks. But he didn't mind that. That she was alive, that he still had her, that was enough. 

She was asleep by the time they arrived at their home. It was near midnight. He didn't wake her up, though, carrying her inside and into their bedroom. Still nervous, he grabbed a gun and kept it by him, locking all of the doors and windows. 

He ended up lying awake the rest of the night, unable to sleep. In the morning, he cooked her breakfast and gently shook her to wake her, careful not to move her too much. It was clear by his red eyes that he hadn't slept.

"Greenland. I made you some toast. Can you eat it? Do you need help sitting up?"

Greenland had a night terror during the night, but Iceland comforted her until she fell back asleep. Even then it was fitful and she kept calling for Iceland in her dreams. 

When he had woken her up, she was groggy, but managed to sit up. A hand instinctively going to her hair, her frowning when she realized it was to her chin instead of close to her butt.

Greenland had a hard time adapting to change due to her mistrustful nature. And was prone to bizarre mood swings. Which terrified the other countries. Terrified wasn't exactly the right word. Italy held up a cross to her when she had what he called 'demonic time'. Even Russia and Germany bailed if they even thought she would be 'dark Greenland'. Sweden was intimidating but they got along. He understood how misunderstood she was. Everyone could agree though, she was one of the most loyal and dependable friends you could ever have.

On top of everything she still hadn't told Iceland she was expecting, eating the toast in silence, debating when to tell him. A manic episode helping her to do it, "The toast wasn't enough. I am pregnant. Need nourishment." While scooting the empty plate towards him.

"I know." Iceland responded, taking her plate and handing her a new plate covered in food. He'd wanted to be sure she could handle the toast before giving her more.

"One Sweden told me." he said, sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand over one of hers. "I-I'm so happy for us." It was clear Iceland wanted to say something more, and he even looked like he might cry, but he didn't continue.

Even though Greenland was in a moot and slightly deadpanned mood. At the sight of Iceland about to cry. Greenland stopped eating, quietly, setting her fork down. 

She had no clue how Iceland could handle someone as screwed up as her. But she loved him deeply, ever since she was old enough to walk. Greenland had been mostly mute until she was about seven when Iceland kissed her and called her his wife. So she punched him and called him an 'Idiot'. That he was *her wife*. End of story.

After putting her fork down, she touched his chin, " Kære du. Jeg elsker dig . Hvad der er på dit hjerte sind ? Min kone . " (Danish: Dear one. I love you. What's on your heart's mind? My wife.) She smiled meaning she was joking on the 'wife' part. Maybe.

He took her hand in both of his, slipping off of the bed and sitting on his knees before her. He never really minded that she called him her wife. She only ever said that about him, and no one else. 

"Whether as your wife, or you as mine, I'd like it to be official." he said, kissing her hand before pulling the engagement ring out of his pocket. He'd come home to say this, and nearly lost her. He refused to miss the chance to say it again.

"I wanted to come home early to surprise you with this. We've been together so long, I know you'll never leave me and you must know I'll never leave you, but I want the world to know, to recognize us as a unity."

Greenland looked at him with her aqua green eyes and they were watering, tears spilling over, "You have been my first love since forever. Of course." She kissed him and tears continued to fall between kisses. He kissed her tears away. Telling her they were saltier than the Baltic Sea. So she smudged whipped cream from the pancakes across his bare chest and declared they were The Alps and in desperate need of scaling.

He laughed, taking her cheeks in his hands and kissing her lips. He then placed the ring on her finger, then kissing her hand again. He vowed never to leave her alone for so long again, and to keep both her and their child safe. He wanted to be there as much as possible for their child, be the best father and husband (or wife) he could be.

"I love you." he said, kissing her lips again before telling her she needed to finish her food for her and the child's health.

Greenland did as she was told and then told him, "You look horrid. Come sleep with me. Now." It was more of a demand than asking him. "You can't take care of us if you're a frazzled mess."

Iceland's cellphone rang and it was Russia, she answered, "Iceland cannot play today. Goodbye Mr. Bear."

He nodded. It was the truth. Iceland stared at her in humored disbelief as she answered his phone, but he didn't really want to deal with anyone else anyway, so it worked out.

He slipped beneath the covers next to Greenland, his fiance, the love of his life, and the bearer of their child. As he lay, he pulled her gently into his arms, careful not to hurt her, kissed her lips yet again, and finally allowed himself some rest.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Germany took Italy home to his house and made him a buffet of pasta on a tray. Everything from mac&cheese to lasagna. Because he was a nervous wreck and didn't know what he would want when he awoke. So he made all the pasta! Then set it on the bedside table.

"Italy? You hungry?"

Italy nodded, taking the plate from Germany. He definitely was hungry. When he saw the pastas on the plate he peered up to Germany, smiling in thanks. Unfortunately, his hands shook too much to eat. He was just now coming out of the shock from the events that transpired earlier that day, though he did his best not to complain. 

He knew Germany felt awful about what happened, so he tried his best not to make things harder for him. It took him a few tries to get the pasta on his fork, and even longer to get it in his mouth.

"You make good pasta, Germany." he said, smiling up at him.

Germany sat down next to him and gently took the fork from him. And with nothing but a smile filled with love, helped him to eat. Which Italy seemed to greatly appreciate. Germany had tried to sleep after bringing his fiance home. But his nightmares of Italy dying in battle, in his Holy Roman arms, had become too much. 

The German resolving to drinking spiked coffee as he watched television. The concoction was enough to keep him awake and help him to unwind. But his eyes gave away his fatigue along with his tightly drawn jaw.

"You need to sleep, Germany. Sleep with me, okay? I'll stay up if you want, even. Just.." Italy guided Germany's hands to set the food to the side. "You really need to sleep. It's good for you."

When it looked like Germany was going to refuse, as he had the last few times Italy had mentioned it, Italy looked like he might cry, tears filling his eyes and threatening to spill over.

"I don't like seeing you like this. It's not you! Please..." He sniffled. "I'm still really scared too! I keep thinking they're going to come back! But I know Germany will keep me safe, but you can't do that if you're too tired! It isn't good for either of us!" The tears finally fell, and he squeezed Germany's hands.

Germany felt a little more than guilty for making Italy cry. He had been through enough and he was partially if not completely right. So with a resigned sigh and smirk quirked on his lips. Germany laid down next to Italy and left the bedside lamp on. Just in case.

"Is this better?"

"Yes!" Italy responded, wiping his tears and smiling. He couldn't lie on his side to face Germany due to his wounds (well, he could, but it would take considerable effort, not to mention a few pillows beneath one side of his back to support him), so he lay on his back, but keeping a hold of one of Germany's hands, pulling it to his lips to kiss, then pressing it to his cheek. It was the best he could do.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prussia stood in the midst of his handiwork and basked in the glory of it. Austria lay on top of an overly made bed - 6 quilts, 12 comforters, and 3 extra mattress pads placed on top of it. Not to mention a sea of pillows surrounding Austria.

Then Prussia insisted, absolutely insisted on the comfy pajamas. To anyone else Austria would have looked like the granny in Little Red Riding Hood. But Prussia was the absolute best. His awesomeness reflecting in his work.

"Are you comfy?" He asked but interrupted before his partner could answer. "Oh! The music!" He placed Austria's favorite earphones in and smiled at his lover's face growing content for the sound of music. Once the music was turned on Austria flinched it was the latest death metal band. "Next doctor's appointment we should really tell him bout that funny throbbing in your forehead. Its not natural."

Austria sighed, pulling his earphones out, flinching as he did so due to the movement of his arm. He couldn't relax, even if he wanted to--not just because of Prussia's typical obnoxiousness, but because even when there was silence, he was afraid, though he wouldn't admit it. He wouldn't even tell Prussia he'd been having nightmares every time he slept.

"Go home." he told Prussia, staring at the ceiling though his vision was blurry due to the fact that his glasses hadn't yet been repaired.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. So go home and... Do whatever you do." he sighed.

Prussia's shoulders slumped and his face showed utter dejection at Austria's words. He knew he wasn't the best boyfriend and hardly anyone could get along with him. They were always arguing, it seemed like the only time they weren't - was during sex (even then sometimes), sleep (even then sometimes), or when they were doing their own thing (even then sometimes).

Okay! They argued 24/7/365/366. It didn't mean they didn't love eachother. It didn't mean he didn't try to be the best boyfriend. Maybe he should just leave. But he was afraid to. He knew Austria was scared and he was too! 

So Prussia spoke, his bubbliness gone, voice monotone and almost robotic, "I will be in the living room. Watching TV. Behaving. I won't touch anything. Have a good nap."

Before Austria could reply. Prussia instead went down the hall to the guest room he occupied. Once the door was closed, he slid down it, knees to his chest. Why did he have to be so...annoying. Obnoxious. Douchey.

Anger welled up in him and he stood, and marched back to Austria's room. Flung the door open and pointed a finger at Austria. "You listen." Then pointed a finger at himself, "I am the best damn thing that has ever happened to you besides the invention of the piano!" His tears finally beginning to spill out. I may not be the best boyfriend, but I can say I try." His hands doing dramatic gestures. "Plus. I can't go home! Look at you! You need me you classical jerk you." Prussia was sobbing now.

He watched as Austria rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. Prussia wanting to be spoiled a moment longer gave an air of reluctance. As if wanting an apology. Before doing anything.

Austria sighed, staring up at the ceiling again. "You twit. Do you think I don't appreciate what you've done for me? Maybe if you'd close your mouth here and there, you'd hear me thank you."

He took a breath, his voice beginning to crack. "Do you think I'm unaware of how much I need you? I invite you over all the damn time. I cook for you every time you're here. I clean up after you. I put up with your shenanigans what seems like every fucking minute of every fucking day." Austria was not generally one to swear, but he was beyond caring at this moment, tears streaking down his own face.

"And I don't do it because I want to. I do it because I need to. I need you. I need you even when I pretend that I don't. I don't want you to leave. I'm terrified, Prussia! I can't even sleep! Every time I do, it's another nightmare! 

It's not even about me! It's about you! I could care less if they came back to finish me off. It's you I'm worried about! I couldn't even defend myself! If I couldn't defend you... I don't... I can't...!!" It hurt to cry. It hurt to breath in general due to his injuries, but crying was much more painful on multiple levels.

Prussia was a blur of motion as he went to Austria's side. This time he was the one apologizing. A kerchief in his hand went to wiping Austria's eyes and without thinking he kissed Austria. It wasn't lust filled, but enough to let him know he loved him.

"I am sorry. Don't cry please." He kissed his forehead and took his hands in his. "I will stay and I will behave."

Surprisingly, Prussia was true to his word and managed to be good.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
America was over at who he had learned was Britain's house. He relaxed in a recliner in front of the TV, with his injured leg propped up. Bits and pieces of his life came back in flashes. 

The first one was a fight with Britain and how he was running away from home. He did run away from home and became a nation. Which caused a great deal of arguments, but the latest one....Caused him a bit of embarrassment. 

Britain was lounging on the couch next to him. And he remembered kissing him. America shifted as his body temperature rose. Then they went to the room and well....By then after the memory he was hard and staring at Britain. Debating if it would be awkward to sleep with someone, you barely remembered. 

At the time of his memory boner Britain sat up to talk to him and America tried to hide it. But it was too late.

Britain's face turned a bit red, but he managed to contain himself so that he wouldn't further embarrass America. He was confused as to what might have brought it on though.

"It's getting a bit late." he said, turning off the television. He knew America liked to stay up late, but he'd always had a certain sort of curfew, or at least he was used to it, anyway, and had already gone beyond that to entertain America. He wondered how long it would take for the memories to fully return to him, hoping that a good night's rest might help.

"We should go to bed--sleep!" he clarified, wanting to smack himself in the face.

America grabbed his crutches and stood up, then half walked, half wobbled after Britain. They walked past Brit's room and an instinct told America this wasn't right. That he should be in there with him and not in the guest room.

He also didn't know how he knew that was his room. Maybe that same instinct?

"Umm...can we go to our room please?" America asked a surprised Britain. Who obliged him and once both were in bed. He managed to roll on his side and kissed Britain's neck from behind. "I remembered some things...." 

Another one came of America riding him, but since his leg and arm were shot that was out of the question. Though he blushed at them switching positions in that memory. But he wouldn't push for it. This was hard for Britain too and tiring.

"I just wanted to let you know. Goodnight." He rolled back onto his back.

Britain waited a moment before rolling over and sitting up enough to lean over America. He kissed the other man's lips and smirked.

"If you're going to give me a goodnight kiss, you can at least make sure to give me a proper one." His expression softened a bit. "But I'm glad you're remembering."

he boner he had repressed, popped up like 'Hayyyy. Nice to see you!' and America felt his cheeks burning. While mentally screaming at it to go away.

"S-sorry' he said not sure if he was sorry for lack of a proper kiss or for his little overly excited friend.

Britain definitely noticed that America's "little friend" was back, and he had to admit, this shy America was pretty adorable.

"No need to be shy. Let me take care of that, or you shan't be comfortable, hm?" He reached around to dip one hand beneath America's pants, stroking his erection.

"We can't actually have sex or anything, but we can do this much."

merica nodded as he bit his lip and his heart pounded with anticipation in his chest. His eyes locking with Britain's. As the man's fingers slid up and down his shaft. Causing his cock to twitch and pulsate in response.

Not one to be selfish, America slid his hand down into Britain's pants, and took hold of his throbbing member. Then kissed him.

Britain was careful not to go near America's wounds as he returned the kiss, moaning into it as America stroked him in earnest. He licked and nipped his way down the other man's neck, palming the head of his cock as he went and stroking a bit faster.

It wasn't too much longer until America released himself into Britain's hand. Britain following not too long after him. The two of them laying down cuddling afterwards and America feeling more than relieved, "I am glad I finally remember you. I don't remember everything and everyone yet. But above all, I am glad so far it has been you. I love you."

"I love you too." Britain said, stroking his hair as he fell asleep, grateful that the worst was over. Next to the bed lay a pistol on the nightstand just in case anything happened, and the bedroom door was locked. Feeling as relaxed as one could be, given the situation, he allowed himself to sleep as well.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Spain had a hell of a time after coming home. Romano was in one of his moods. Where he hated everything and everyone. Which included a screaming fit, followed by him hurling a plate of food against the wall, and refusing to let Spain do anything for him.

Spain was glad he was back to his normal self, but at the same time. He was being a little over the top with it! It made him wonder if instead of showing fear. That Romano was channeling into anger. To keep himself from feeling like a victim or from being one ever again.

"Can't we just cuddle and watch a movie til we fall asleep, Rono?" Spain pleaded with him. Watching as Rono's eyes narrowed at the word 'sleep'.

"Considering what happened the last time I wanted to "sleep"?" Romano asked, making it clear to Spain that he really was just overly projecting his anger due to fear. "I don't want to sleep, you jerk bastard!"

Romano had been sitting on the couch, having refused to go back into the bedroom when he came home. He wouldn't even accept a blanket even though it was clear he was cold.

Spain understood where he was coming from, but still tried to reason with him. "Well, you need to eat. It will give you energy and help you to heal. You need to sleep for the same reason."

Romano just continued to glare at him and Spain deciding to remain easy going and relaxed, "Fine. Stay in here by the yourself. Cold and hungry. While I curl up in a comfy bed. Its not like you need me. You keep refuting my help. Goodnight Rono. Hopefully I will be okay by myself......" Spain smirked with his hands behind his head as he started to leave the room.

Romano was so stunned for a moment he couldn't speak, and then he was as red as a tomato, upset. He grabbed the cane Spain had been having him use and hobbled over to where Spain stood.

Romano hadn't really changed since he was a child. His temper was the same if not growing with him. However, Spain did have the advantage from living with Romano for so long, as he was also predictable. So Spain's reverse psychology worked as well now as it had in the past.

"You're a jerk." He said to the Spaniard. He was on the verge of tears due to the fact that he was afraid. "I'm only coming with you in case you need my help." He said. It was a lie, but a common one. He'd used it even when he was younger during thunderstorms when he would crawl into Spain's bed out of fright.

Spain smiled like a cat with a bird which made Romano smack his chest angrily. Which caused Spain to crack up laughing. Saying it was enough that he won, he didn't have to go rubbing it in.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Japan laid in bed as China checked his wounds. China still wearing an apologetic and guilty look as he did so. Which made Japan feel worse about everything that happened. It was his fault for not being strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough.

He was supposed to be a samurai. A feared warrior! Japan's pride was still hurt over the incident and here was China feeling sorry for him.

"Please stop beating yourself up. Its my fault."

"It's not your fault." China said simply, redressing his bullet wound. It had been closed by the doctors, but because of how long it had been exposed, there was a chance of infection and China didn't want to give any infection free reign. So he cleaned it regularly. It was painful to do so, and he felt guilty for causing his boyfriend pain.

Japan still looked as though he felt guilty though, and it irritated China's already frayed nerves. "Look, this is what you're going to do. You're going to heal, and then you're going to laugh in the face of the enemy that couldn't kill you. You're going to get stronger, and nothing like this is going to happen again. Okay?"

He leaned down to kiss Japan's forehead, then his cheek. "I know I feel guilty because I wasn't here, and you feel guilty because you don't think you were strong enough, but neither of us is really at fault. It was all that... terrorist..." he spat the word. "We're going to be alright." he took Japan's hand as he lay next to him, though not beneath the covers.

Wait. From one of the reports......there were two people. We only killed one." They looked at each other. Both of them not really knowing what to say to that. How could everyone overlook such a major factor? It was probably due to the concerns over their loved ones.

"You're right." China admitted, suddenly even more on his guard than he had been before. He would definitely bring that up at the next world conference. There was no way they could allow something like this to happen again. He refused!

"Next world meeting, we'll bring it up. Even the one never mentioned anyone else. For now, you should rest. I'll stay up." He said it, but it was clear he was exhausted.

Japan wouldn't hear of it. Since he had already slept he proposed an idea to China, "I will watch TV here in bed and you sleep. If I hear, see, or smell anything odd. I will wake you up. Deal?"

This was one of the many things, the other nations were jealous of in their relationship: They were considerate and communicated openly. They hardly ever argued or got mad with each other. They were a poster couple.

"I love you, China. Please sleep."

China nodded, getting the remote so Japan could have it, and even getting a few books and some food for him just in case. Then he got beneath the covers and moved close to Japan. "I love you." He took Japan's hand to kiss it.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sweden had brought Finland home only after the doctors managed to convince him that his wife would be alright, as well as their preborn child. Once inside their home, he placed Finland on the couch and prepared him some food. He was exhausted, but things needed to be done.

First, he went upstairs and checked to be sure that nothing had reignited, and then he remade the bed in the downstairs guest room. It would serve as their bedroom until he could get the upstairs room repaired.

Speaking of repairs, his first priority was the glass sliding door that led into their yard on the side of the house. He checked on Finland every few moments, making sure he was alright, then swept up the glass and broke it out of the doors completely so he could begin boarding it up. Any time Finland so much as made a sound, Sweden was back in there with him making sure he was alright.

By this time Finland was four months almost five months pregnant. His belly was getting huge and he had learned something new at the doctors. Sweden had been wondering at how he was slightly bigger than what was considered normal. 

They were having twins! The one had been behind the other and they didn't even know until a couple of hours before he was discharged But Sweden had been busy with the rest disposing of....

So he was constantly trying to shift to get comfortable. It wasn't easy with two babies! And every time he shifted Sweden came running.

Finally at the last time he came in, he patted the space next to him, "I have something to tell you about the pregnancy."

Worried that something might be wrong, Sweden was immediately at his wife's side. Finland didn't appear to be distressed, so that was a relief, but they weren't out of the proverbial woods yet.

"Everythin' okay, Fin?" he asked, sitting next to Finland as the other man had wanted.

"The doctor said that we are having twins! They didn't know until my pre discharge ultrasound. The babe was hidin' behind the other." Finland beamed. "Isn't this exciting?!"

Sweden was stunned. He'd been wondering about that, considering how swollen Finland's abdomen had become in five months, but the doctors had never said anything about it until now. And he was floored. He needed to get more supplies to build a second crib, and still needed to get the upstairs guest room cleared out. And repair the master bedroom. AND fix the sliding door. AND clean up the bathroom. 

So much work, so little Sweden.

Still,he couldn't say he wasn't happy. He definitely was, and he held his wife in his arms for a few moments, appreciating all that he had. Despite everything, Finland was okay, and their child--no, their children--were fine as well. He could handle the extra work.

"Love ya. All 'f ya." he said, kissing Finland before going back to work and thinking of everything he needed to get done. More food, more baby clothes... More toys... More everything...  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Denmark had to be extra careful while taking care of Norway. His ear drums were injured though the doctor said they would heal. But it wasn't for certain his hearing quality would be the same as before.

He had to be careful when around him because he might startle him. And they depended on texting to communicate to one another. Norway leaving his phone on vibrate. So he could be alerted when he had a message.

'What would you like to do for fun? Maybe a death metal concert?' Denmark texted jokingly. Denmark always had to go with Prussia when he wanted to see one. Being as Norway like Austria couldn't stand it. But now that he couldn't hear.......

Norway stared at his phone, his expression having returned to its normal unreadable state. He wondered for a moment if the Dane was serious, but he couldn't be...

"No thanks. You can go. I'd rather sit and read." he texted, then peered over to the faerie flying next to him. Her mouth was moving, but there was no sound, and he pointed at his ear to let her know he couldn't hear her. She seemed sympathetic, sitting down next to him.

Denmark being use to Norway seeing strange beings. Even if he couldn't, was careful not to sit where Norway's eyes had landed. Before he went back to his book. Denmark was just about to say something, when Norway's phone lit up. Besides him Iceland was usually the only one to text him.

He use to be jealous of Iceland and Norway's relationship. Until he realized that they were like brothers. Norway even going so far as addressing Iceland as such.

'I wanted to call, but seeing as your injury prevents that....You are going to be an uncle! Greenland is pregnant.' Iceland had texted him, Denmark reading it from where he sat next to Norway.

Norway raised an eyebrow, then texted back "Does this mean you're going to start calling me big brother?" He remembered the day that Iceland had found out the two were related. He'd refused to call Norway his brother at all, but merely wanted to share the news. Norway knew he hated it, but couldn't help but tease his little brother over this every now and again.

He watched Denmark's reaction to the text, and the Dane looked pretty happy and excited. As he practically bounced around, Norway was very glad he couldn't hear.

We are going to be uncles! We are going to be uncles!" Denmark exclaimed loudly. Clearly more than excited. Then quickly grabbed his phone, texting Norway, "I want a baby! Let's have a baby! We can raise them with GreenIce's. I will even be willing to carry. Please!"

Denmark had been begging him for a baby for years. It wasn't that Norway didn't want anyone, so he said, but that he thought Denmark was too immature. Is what Norway told him. And when he became too much, Norway would tell him, 'You would have to give up your awesome carefree life. No more getting drunk, concerts, and time with Prussia would be limited.'

At one point Denmark talked Prussia into asking Austria for a baby. So they could continue hanging out and doing awesome parenty adulty stuff. They had announced it on a double date and both of their lovers looked terrified.

Norway raised his hand to his face after reading the text. He then showed the text to the faerie sitting next to him and she seemed to have a good laugh about it.

"We're not having a baby at this time. And you're not carrying. I can barely handle you as it is. Pregnant you would be worse." he knew that Denmark might take that harshly, so he added: "Maybe soon. Let's talk after Greenland's child is born and after Finland's child is born."

He hoped that would satisfy the Dane for now at least.

But that is like nine months away!' Denmark pouted. Then realized he was acting immature. Which was exactly why Norway didn't want a baby now. So he sent another text to him, "You're right. We will wait." Thinking that he would win him over that way. Then sent another text, 'Wanna make out?' He waggled his eyebrows playfully at him.

Norway rolled his eyes, but motioned for Denmark to "come here." He didn't want to "make out" so to say, but he found that he would like some intimacy. Nearly dying tends to do that, he supposed.


	6. You Would Cry Too, If It Happened To You

Italy was bounding up and down the hall excitedly! He kept telling Germany how he just couldn't wait to attend Finland and Greenland baby shower. It was that afternoon. Of course the German couldn't forget because Italy kept rambling about it every 5 seconds. Though he had to admit that his fiances enthusiasm was rather cute.

As they left the house Germany carried an armload of gifts to the car. Even though today was an important day he didn't want to leave the house unattended. After a prowler had tried entering their home while watching a movie. But at the same time he could not refuse their invitation. It would be more than rude.

Italy ran into the kitchen. He'd made *plenty* of food for everyone to eat at the baby shower. He pulled out the prepared dishes and loaded them into the car as well. There was one more thing he made, but that was a surprise for Germany. It had just finished cooking too, so once the other things were loaded, Italy called for Germany to come into the kitchen (he had barred him from doing so throughout the course of the day so that he could cook in peace and make his surprise). 

It wasn't hard to figure out. Italy had made some wurst. But it was his first time successfully making it taste good (in his opinion), and he couldn't wait for Germany to try it. He'd been particularly nervous throughout the day, as the last time he would have attempted to make wurst, he'd been attacked. So it was an extra bit of good luck to him that nothing bad had happened. He just hoped Germany liked it.

"Germany, Germany! I did it! I made wurst, now come try it okay? Then we can go!"

Germany at first was hesitant to try it, but he didn't want to upset Italy. After he had put so much effort into making it. So he opened his mouth wide and reluctantly begin chewing it. He even surprised himself when he began making noises indicating that it tasted good . Germany took another bite and then another and another until he had finished the whole piece of bratwurst. Then smiled at Italy and told him how delicious it was. But they had to get going quickly or else they would be late.

Italy nodded, set the plate to the side and hopped into the passenger seat of the car. As they drove, he thought about starting a family with Germany, but didn't really know when or if Germany really wanted to do that. He didn't want to annoy his fiance by bringing it up. Besides, they still needed to get married, so that was first on the list of priorities.

"Austria said he'd help with the music at the wedding, and Big Brother France says we can book a place in Paris. What do you think of that, Germany?"

"I think that that all sounds fine. As long as I still choose my own suit." Germany momentarily wondering what Italy was just thinking about. Because his face flushed the cutest shade of pink.

All of this baby business, had got Germany thinking about his own potential offspring. Of course they would be with Italy. But when would he want them? How many would he want? What would they look like? Who would they act most like? The stream of questions were endless.

Italy smiled. "I can't wait to see the babies~! I know that's not for another couple months, but I still can't wait!" He squeezed Germany's hand, his grin widening as he thought of what the children would look like.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Prussia had excitedly ran into Denmark while out with Austria. Norway was with him as well. It wasn't uncommon for the four of them to be seen together. They double dated quite often, though that isn't a good way to describe it. It was more of a chance for Prussia and Denmark to continue their avid bromance. While Austria and Norway hung out in the background together. 

Apparently all four of them were heading to the baby shower. Denmark and Norway would have already been there, if Denmark hadn't wanted to pick out a last minute gift. It wasn't for the baby. It was for both pairs of expecting parents. Which Norway had thought highly inappropriate - it had come from a sex novelty shop.

Austria and Prussia falling behind due to Prussia's incessant need to be fashionably late.

"I think my gifts will be the best!" Exclaimed Prussia.

Denmark snorted as if to say 'whatever'.

Austria rolled his eyes, and Norway brought his hand to his face.

"Did you even get anything that would be useful?" Austria asked. He was a bit more irritable than usual, perhaps because Prussia had dragged him all over the place today, and all he wanted to do was sit down and rest. His feet hurt. Add this to the fact that Prussia had done some shopping and Austria had had to carry everything until they got to the car and it made for an unhappy Austria indeed. He didn't understand why they'd had to walk to the baby shower, but Prussia and Denmark seemed to want to "prove" themselves or something.

Norway had earphones in, ignoring everyone else. His hearing had come back (though Denmark didn't necessarily agree with that fact since he didn't feel like Norway could hear him all the time, when really it was just Norway ignoring him).

Denmark, "I get the babies clothes. Bought the twins lots of matching outfits. I bought GreenIce's babe a vineyard." He overheard all three of them intake a sharp breath. But he obliviously continued on. "I bought GreenIce maternity lingerie and edible sexy jellies. And for SuFin I got them a dildo sampler with edible sexy jellies and maternity lingerie."

"Please refrain from giving me anything should I become pregnant." Austria said. Norway had taken out his earphones and he first stared at Denmark for being so ridiculous, then at Austria, who responded to his unspoken question by shaking his head "no."

Turning his attention back to Denmark, Norway pulled out a plastic container holding a sandwich he'd packed for when Denmark wouldn't be able to shut up, or was being excessively... Denmark. He popped off the lid and offered it to Denmark. "Hungry?"

Denmark gratefully took the sandwich and gave Norway a look as if to say 'Hey!'. But then shrugged it off and nommed on it. But then the conversation fell to Prussia.

"I got them clothes. I got them toys. I got them band mercy and their first concert tickets. Do you think babies will like death metal? I don't see why not. But I was considerate and bought them six months in advance. So they will have strong necks for shoulder sitting. And possibly crowd surfing." When he saw Austria's exasperated look, "What? I know what children like. I will be an awesome father!"

He was kind of confused when Norway proferred him a sandwich. But he took it anyways.

"Thank you." Austria said, and Norway nodded, then gave Austria the same look as before, and he again shook his head, and then Norway shrugged. Then it was Austria's turn to give Norway a look, and Norway shook his head, then Austria shrugged. And suddenly, the two were brooding.

"You know." Denmark said between bites. "If these two don't want to have babies let's see....within the next 3-5 years. We could have one." 

Prussia raised an eyebrow, "Like isn't that cheating? I may look like a playboy. But...."

"No. No. Artificial insemination." Denmark went on. "With our combined awesomeness."

"Imagine the possibilities..." Prussia thought out loud muttering.

"I won't tell Denmark if you don't tell Prussia." Austria said.

"Deal." Norway responded. "I think it works out better for us in the long run anyway."

"Indeed."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Japan and China had went early to help set everything up. While Finland and Iceland sat together on the sofa. Both of them had become so big in such a little amount of time. Japan held the ladder steady as China finished the last of the streamers.

They were glad that Italy was bringing the food. But they still had the dining room table to setup. "When do you think we will become parents?"

"Whenever you think we're ready." China responded, as he finished hanging the final streamer. He climbed down and helped to put the ladder away, then grabbed some tablecloths. He kissed Japan's cheek as he passed.

"Then we can start trying?" Japan asked him as he started the place settings. He was more than eager to start a family with China. It was something he wanted more than anything in this world.

"Yes." China said, moving as quickly as possible to get the tables set up. He and Japan managed to finish the job quickly, and as an apology for not really talking to Japan as much as it may have been liked, he pressed his partner against the wall and kissed him deeply. "Yes. We can start trying."

Japan smiled a rosey color and could not wait for the next time that - they would be alone together. So that the magic of child making could begin.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland and Sweden were in the upstairs guest room, which was designated to be the nursery for the twins. Sweden had been doing a lot of work. He'd repaired the sliding door, pulled out the carpeting from both the upstairs bedrooms, completely redesigned the master bedroom and designed the nursery (and built the cribs). Iceland had come over here and there to help Sweden work. Sweden had barred Finland from coming into the nursery OR the master bedroom until they were done, deliberately waiting until Finland was away to move in the furniture. In the meantime, they'd slept in the downstairs guest room.

"Finished?" Iceland asked, looking over the nursery.

The Swede nodded, and they made their way downstairs to their respective wives.

Sweden offered his hand, helping Finland from the couch and leading him upstairs, with one hand on his wife's back to support him, to see the nursery, which was finally done. He covered Finland's eyes with one hand as he opened the door, having his wife step into the room before letting him see.

"'s not much. But 's done." Sweden said.

"Not done yet." Sweden said, taking him into the master bedroom, which was also complete. He'd thought about making it look as close to what it looked like before the fire and attack as possible, but he didn't at all want Finland to associate the room with what had happened, so everything was new and different. He even had a chaise lounge in the new room, which the old room didn't have. He had his wife sit on the lounge, and it was much softer than it looked.

Before Finland could even begin to react, the Swede lifted one of his feet, beginning to massage them one at a time.

Finland was absolutely speechless and did not know what to say. So instead he took to crying happily. Sweden had put everything into this and it was just the most loveliest of things. The Fin grabbed Sweden's hand and kissed it, "It is just amazing. I love'it. Thank you husband."

Finland let out a delighted sound and melted into the lounge. Sweden always knew exactly what he needed when he needed it. And his feet had really needed that. Finland smiled at Sweden sweetly, almost angelically blissful. And he saw Sweden becoming flustered at his cuteness. Sweden felt him hit the palm of his foot just the right way and his toes curled, eyes rolling back, and let out a soft moan.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland brought Greenland some juice, and sat on the floor to rub her lower legs and then her feet. "How are you feeling?"

"I am feeling fine. Just wondering when your brother and everyone else will get here! I am really nervous and excited." Greenland said. She was in a demure mood at the moment.

Mainly she was nervous that there would be fighting. Since everyone had been invited. And it was known that during mass gatherings they didn't go so well.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"You are literally my least favorite person." Romano said to Spain as he was carried by the other to Sweden and Finland's home. Romano had said he was tired from walking, and, not wanting to be late, Spain had decided to carry him, which Romano protested. His attitude only became worse as they saw America and Britain.

"I"m not going to ask." Britain said.

"Good because I don't want to hear your stupid opinion!" Romano yelled.

"It looks like Romano wussed out. It is just like him though. Always building himself up to be so macho, but we all know he's filled with ketchup." America teased. He had gotten his full memory back a couple of weeks ago. "Why Spain keeps dipping his fry in it. I will never know!"

Spain knew he was just kidding and the teasing rolled off of his back like water. But Romano..he well exploded. "Rono please have a sense of humor."

Romano's face turned as red as a tomato, a common occurrence when he was really upset.

"I didn't fucking choose this! Spain's the bastard that did it without my consent! I told him not to but he wouldn't fucking listen!" He squirmed out of Spain's arms, and moved to walk away, in the opposite direction of where they needed to go. He'd taken it pretty personally. When he noticed that Spain was going after him, he yelled "Don't follow me, you jerk bastard! My brother's going to be there, so why don't you spend some time with the better brother, eh?" 

Britain sighed. "You could at least keep in mind his tendency to be offended. I know offending people is practically your national sport, but damn." He wasn't mad, and he'd smirked at America's comment. "Honestly I wonder what Spain does see in him, but I suppose we all have our faults, don't we?"

Spain without skipping a beat, swooped him back into his arms, and nuzzled his neck lovingly. While whispering as he nuzzled, "I love you so much Rono. Please calm down. Have some fun with me please?"

Romano pouted, then buried his face in Spain's neck.

"Fine. Whatever you want, you jerk bastard."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
America lead Britain inside and the house was packed with people. The guest of honors sat on a sofa on a raised dais in the living room. Both of them glowing with radiancy. It was beautiful and everyone seemed to be getting along pretty well. Even Ireland and Scotland. Which was surprising. Spain and Romano followed them in.

Japan and China greeted them, taking their gifts to go place them.

Italy sat next to Finland, and they were chatting. Sweden was siting next to Greenland, and he offered her some hot cocoa. Iceland sat on the floor, still rubbing Greenland's legs and feet.

It was going very well. Prussia and Denmark, with the help of Norway, stayed in their own little corner. Austria and Germany helped China and Japan pass out drinks and food, and there was more than enough of that.

Even Russia was having a good time. He was outside showing Latvia, Sealand, and Liechtenstein how to build snow forts. Switzerland supervised this.

Even Belgium and Netherlands came. Belgium was busy fawning over Finland and Greenland while the Netherlands lectured Sweden on how not to spend too much money on their children.

Britain *made* America apologize to Romano, and all went well with that. Then America went out to play in the snow with Russia, Latvia, Sealand, and Liechtenstein. Britain supervised with Switzerland. They didn't need another cold war.

Estonia sat on the floor in front of Finland so that they could talk. Lithuania sat with Poland on the loveseat and basically just let Poland talk about himself. Hungary stood with Belgium fawning over the pregnant bellies.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It started out simple. It wasn't a big deal really. Any of the other nations would have just laughed and shrugged it off. But no. Not Ireland and Scotland. 

"Yew be believin' I cheeted?!" Scotland asked incredulously as they came up from the basement that Sweden made into a lounge. It had a poker table, pool table, chess table, and dart board. They had been playing darts. "How dews one cheet at darts yew gat?"

Ireland didn't answer him. He was trying his hardest to behave. But that joke bit at Scotland. So when Ireland was almost to the living room.

Scotland threw a dart. It whizzed through the air and stuck true it's mark. Ireland's right ass cheek.

"Howse that fer'cheetin?!"

Austria moved quickly to get between them, as did Britain, who had heard the arguing and stepped inside. They tried to calm the pair, but that just wasn't going to happen. If there was any constant in the world, it was that when Ireland and Scotland felt the urge to fight one another, they did. Britain and Austria were shoved roughly to the side and onto the ground, the Englishman landing atop the Austrian.

Ireland gripped Scotland's shirt. "I was tryin' t' behave since this is a baby shower an' all, the bloody hell is your problem?" And suddenly punches were being thrown from the both of them.

"I think I'm going to start taking a note from Switzerland's book". Austria groaned.

"Sounds like a good plan." Britain responded. "Who even invited them?"

"I don't have an answer for that. But I would appreciate if you would kindly get off of me." Austria said.

"Right. Sorry mate.' Britain said, moving off of him and helping him to stand.

Norway noticed that Prussia was moving closer to Ireland and Scotland and moved to attempt to stop him.

Sweden and Iceland stared at one another for a moment before standing and preparing to break up the fight.

Scotland and Ireland continued on trying to out match, out wit, and out do one another blow for blow. It was like two ancient warriors trying to show primal dominance. Which was always expected out of the two - beating each other stupid.

Even though Norway had tried to intervene on Prussia's part, he just was not fast enough. Prussia tried to stop them and wound up dining on a fistful of knuckle sandwich. A double helping of it actually.

Japan kicked Scotland and sent him reeling through the air. Scotland landing on the edge of a table with a bang and causing a teeter totter effect. 

Everyone watched in abject horror as the punch bowl and cake flew through the air. The punch landing with a splish on top of Finland and the cake with a plop on top of Greenland. Iceland and Sweden rushing to them, but Italy beating them to it. He ushered them out of the room while waiving a white flag.

Due to there being so many nations and most of them being men. There was a testosterone fueled overload and they started fighting with each other. It looked like an old fashioned bar room brawl.

Denmark stood on top of the table that had just been used as a catapult. He saw Sweden trying to leave the room, he pointed his ax in the Swede's direction, "Where are you going you meatball?! Afraid to face me and how absolutely better I am to you?"

Sweden spun to face Denmark, glaring, then made his way toward the Dane.And despite Norway's protests, they were at each others throats. Sweden *knew* he shouldn't have allowed Denmark to come, but Finland had been so happy to invite him, and he'd listened to his wife as he always did.

France sat on the corner of the couch, sipping his wine as he had in the last fight. Truth be told, he was the one who had invited Ireland and Scotland, but no on needed to know that. Russia sat next to him, smiling. "Parties like these always make me happy." he said. France passed him a glass.

The Baltics were next to Russia, sitting on the floor and avoiding the fighting. They watched as Britain was shoved away again and America stepped in. Spain stepped in only when a flying object hit Romano in the face.

Speaking of being hit in the face, Prussia was sitting in a chair, with Austria treating his bloodied nose.

"This is why you don't get involved." Austria scolded him, then took one hand in his own and kissed it. "But that's not to say I don't appreciate the sentiment."

Scotland punched Japan as he tried to kick him again to separate the two, and China barreled into him. 

"You think it's okay to hit whoever you like? I'll kick your ass, then annex your country!" he yelled, going after him again.

Switzerland carried Liechtenstein and practically danced his way through the chaos, avoiding anyone and everything moving around them. 

"This is why we don't get involved. This is why being neutral is best, Li." She nodded her understanding and clung to him. He went to check on Finland and Greenland in the other room with Italy and Iceland.

Greenland was beyond livid. In order to be livid that would be a nicety. It would be a pleasantry. She was use to the idiots fighting. Especially as a waitress at the pub. She was to the others shenanigans. But it had gone too far when they had made poor Finland cry.

There was a black nearly visible aura around her. Almost like a raging demonic storm cloud from the depths of hell. If Norway was near her it would have bitch slapped him in the face.

As Switzerland made his way to the corner to to check on them. He took one look and scurried away as she rounded the corner.

As she strode back to the chaos, she grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows. Then stood on top of the living room table. She knocked an arrow and then released it. It shot Ireland in the leg. She knocked another one and it punctured Scotland's fist. Another one whizzed planting in the handle of Denmark's ax.

Almost everyone stopped and stared. 

"You want to act like pigs?! I will hunt you like pigs!!!" Greenland cried.

You could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was silent, barring for Ireland and Scotland moaning from pain. Sweden immediately went to Finland, and, seeing him in tears,held his wife, apologizing over and over and over again.

Things became back in shape quickly. France decided that was the time that Ireland and Scotland should leave, and he had Russia help escort them from the premises. Japan, China, Austria, Britain, Germany, and Spain began cleaning the mess.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland tried calming her down, but nothing he could do or say seemed to help. Instead she was trying to console Finland. Once Sweden took that duty over from her. She sat on the couch with a glass of wine. Which Iceland allowed her to have. Surveying the others like a hawk and letting them know she still wanted to kill them.

Once everything was back in order.

"I hope all of you are proud of yourselves. You destroyed Sweden's lovely home. You wrecked our children's party. And you made Finland cry." She glowered at all of them. "You should all be ashamed."

Prussia and Denmark stared at their feet fidgeting like chastised children.

"But Scotland and Ireland..started it...." Denmark pointed out.

"Yeah---" Prussia was about to add to the observation.

"I don't care. I don't give a damn who started it. You fools continued it." Greenland clutched at her stomach and took in a pained breath. Her face scrunching in discomfort. "Mmmmmm"

Austria was at her side immediately along with Iceland. Making sure she was okay.

"Do I *look* okay to you?" She snapped and then cried out in pain again - effectively whimpering.

"Let's have her lay down" Spain suggested "Prop her legs up and give her some water. Stress isn't good for the baby."

And suddenly, there was a new tension in the room as Austria and Iceland led Greenland into the guest bedroom, at Sweden's direction. The bed was freshly made due to Finland and Sweden no longer having to use it, and they pulled back the blankets and fluffed up the pillows for her, helping her to lie down.

Sweden grabbed some extra pillows from the closet and they elevated her legs a bit. Germany pushed through everyone else to figure out what was going on and what he could do to help. People were crowded around the bed, curious as to whether or not Greenland would be alright.

Finland sat next to her side along with Iceland and let out a gasp. As Greenland whimpered again and fluid ran from between her legs. Along with blood and mucus. "I wanna go home!" She cried and grabbed at Iceland trying to stand up. A wave of pain racked through her. "Please. I just wanna go home."

Iceland, seeing the mess and realizing exactly what was happening, was at a loss. He didn't know what to say.

"W-We can't go home, Green. I think we should stay here, being that..." He gently lay her back down, shifting so he could lay next to her. "Being that you're in labor and all. I don't want to move you unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Get some towels." Austria said to Prussia, and when Prussia made no indication that he was going to do it (either out of shock or a general not-taking-orders-from-my-boyfriend attitude) he jabbed him in the stomach saying "NOW."

Prussia hurriedly ran from the room and grabbed towels. Germany came in with a tub of hot water. Hungary brought her ice chips.

"I need everyone out of the room. Excluding Iceland and the medical staff." Germany told everyone. They did as they were asked and complied with the order.

"I need to check your cervix see how far you are dilated." Germany told Greenland.

"No." She said flatly.

"I need to see when the baby is coming."

"No."

"Maybe me then?" Austria smiled kindly at her.

"No."

"What about me?" Hungary asked her. Thinking she might be more comfortable with a woman doing it.

"No."

Germany was about to speak again.

"Do it and I will clamp my pelvic floor muscles so hard. It will break your digits." She glared at him with venom.

Greenland was highly uncomfortable with anyone except for Iceland touching her down there.

But after Iceland holding her down, Austria and Germany spreading her legs (which earned them black eyes), Hungary pulled her fingers out smiling."Four fingers. So we have a little while."

Germany and Austria nodded, rubbing their bruised faces, figuring that next time, they'd just have Iceland do it and tell him what to do. The two and Hungary began to time her contractions and otherwise trying to help her relax as much as possible. Sweden brought in some light snacks, along with some juice, not only for Greenland, but everyone else as well.

Greenland kept whining and whimpering. After three hours of labor, finally her contractions were close enough together and her cervix dilated enough to give birth. Austria, Hungary, and Germany began prepping everything for her.

The entire time she kept pleading and trying to bargain with Iceland to go home. That she could hold the baby in for one more month....maybe even two. But he told her to just relax and that the baby needed to come out. For her to focus on having the baby.

Austria sat between her legs and told her to start pushing. Germany held a light up so he could see better. Hungary made sure Greenland was comfortable, pushing, and breathing.

Her lopped off hair had grown back and stuck to her sweat sheened face. As she breathed in and cried on her breath out. The pain was excruciating. As she pushed she felt something moving and turning about inside of her canal (the baby's head).

"It hurts and feels weird! I don't want to do this! Iceland you did this to me you bastard!" She cried out.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Finland sat in the living room with the others. He was cuddling next to Sweden and Sweden had an arm wrapped around him. His hand resting on his wife's expanding pregnant belly.

Hungary had come out once to let them know that she was delivering. Then went back to the room. It wasn't long after that, that Greenland started screaming, crying, cursing, and verbally attacking everyone in the room.

Finland stared wide eyed and was clearly distraught at Greenland's labor. Was it that terrible? Was it that scary?

Sweden held onto Finland, his comforting hold tightening a bit as he realized how distraught his wife looked. He had to do something to comfort him.

"'s goin' t' be okay." he said. "I'll be there th' whole time. Stay right by yer side. It'll hurt, but we'll h've th' best things in th' world afterward." he rubbed Finland's swollen abdomen.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Frankly, Iceland was a bit terrified of Greenland at this time. He'd tried to hug her a few times only to be pushed away and been politely informed by Greenland just exactly where he could shove his arms and his hugs. And as unpleasant a thought that might have been, it was nothing compared to watching Greenland suffer so much pain for their offspring.

As if that wasn't bad enough, there was also the death grip of his fiance to consider. He didn't know if he would have hands without broken bones with which to hold their soon-to-be born child.

"The child is crowning."Austria reported as Greenland let out an excruciatingly loud cry. 

"A few more pushes and then it's all over." Hungary said, holding Greenland's other hand. She didn't seem to have any reaction to the death grip. Iceland and Hungary stood on opposite sides of the laboring Greenland, each holding one of her hands and holding her legs apart. Iceland made the mistake of looking at the crowning baby and nearly fainted as a result.

Greenland grunted while fighting back the urge to give a blood curdling scream. Just one more push they kept telling her and with a heave that took all her might. She felt the baby sliding out. Leaving her body and straight into Austria's hands. 

Germany, Russia, and Hungary rushing about quickly. It wasn't long before a baby sqwauling could be heard. Which instantly relieved a tense Greenland. She fell back in the bed. Trying to catch her breath. she kissed Iceland's hand and loosened her grip on him.

Hungary cleaned the sweat from Greenland's face and from her chest. While she did that. Germany and Austria finished with examining the baby. Handing them to Iceland.

Greenland anxiously watched as Iceland walked toward her, bundle protectively in his arm. Hungary repositioned her so she could sit up and breastfeed the baby.

Germany exited the room and wiped sweat from his brow. Everyone staring at him expectantly, as to say, 'Well?'

He smiled and said, "It's a boy."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
There was applause from everyone. Glasses clinked together here and there. There was no champagne, it was mostly juice and water, but the spirit was there. There was much yelling, cheering, and celebration going around. 

And much affection.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sweden gave Finland a comforting squeeze, and when Finland stopped cheering for a moment, he took his wife's chin into his hand, turning his head so that he could kiss his lips. "'s goin' t' be okay, Fin. Love ya." he said.

Finland kissed Sweden back and smiled against his lips, "I know. And I love'you." Finland was still afraid of labor though, but knew it would be worth it.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Italy ran toward his fiance and threw his arms around Germany's neck. "Germany! Yay, babies!" Italy pressed his lips to his. "You look tired. When we get home, I'll rub your back some!"

Germany smiled and held Italy to him, "That would be nice." Then whispered in his ear, "Maybe it could be mutually benefitting."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
China smiled, then took Japan's hand in his own, pulling him close. "That's going to be us, soon, Rìběn." He kissed Japan, imagining the future, when they, too, would become parents.

Japan blushed at the sentiment and being called by his pet name. "I welcome the experience." Which he knew would be an interesting one. One he looked forward to more than anything.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Britain had to wait until America stopped shouting, but if there was one thing America rarely did, it was shutting up. So, to silence him and express how he was feeling, he grabbed America's face and pulled him into a heated kiss.

America blushed hard and was properly flustered. Britain and he had never shown affection in public. Nor had they come out as a couple to anyone yet. This was a milestone for them.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Norway was smiling, though silent. He caught Denmark giving him a look like "well everyone else is kissing. How about planting one on my lips, huh?" and Norway rolled his eyes, but moved in to kiss the Dane.

Denmark kissed him rather roughly, but it was short. Then blatantly told Norway, "You better set your oven on preheat. We're making bread tonight."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Romano didn't even get a chance to protest before Spain pulled him into a kiss. He wasn't one for public displays of affection, and his face turned as red as a tomato, but he melted into it after a moment, accepting it.

Spain kissed him anyway and Rono finally relented. He went a step further and pinched his tight butt.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Austria saw all of this, the couples being so happy and kissing their lovers. But he had work to do, and didn't even know where Prussia had gone off to. Instead, he took this time to clean things up in the bedroom, putting dirtied towels into a basket for washing, placing the placenta into a bag for disposal after examining it to be sure it was normal. He then took that bag out along with any other trash.

Prussia was outside. He had needed a moment to think about things. Yes even the king of awesome had to be logical about things. When he saw Austria he helped him with the trash. "What you did was amazing...." He kissed his lover. "I was thinking some more. Without Denmark's prodding. I want a baby. A baby with you."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland was proud. So proud. He was proud of Greenland for bearing and going through so much pain for their child. And he was proud of his son. He eased himself down next to Greenland, being careful not to move too much so he wouldn't disturb her as she breastfed the babe. He stole a quick kiss from her when he got next to her and grinned.

"Look at what we've created. He's perfect. And so are you." He kissed her cheek. "Any ideas on a name?"

Greenland smiled and thought for a moment, looking down at him, "Javnu. A combination of our capitols. He is a symbol of our unity."

The babe made suckling sounds on her breast and his face would occasionally hungrily nuzzle. It made her heart melt. She thought it funny how one tiny being could make your life complete.

After Greenland nursed Javnu and swaddled him in a blanket. She handed him ever so gently to Iceland. So that he could show him to the others. She wore a sweet and serene look, "If you let Denmark or Prussia hold him and they drop him. Don't come back if its not in a pine box." She laughed half jokingly.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Iceland nodded, then took the child into his arms to show everyone else. Though Greenland couldn't see it, she could definitely hear a lot of compliments and cooing, and people making comments that it was moments such as this one that made them want to have children (and their partners were adamant about waiting). He didn't see Austria and Prussia, and, figuring they left, came back in with his son to help Greenland prepare to leave.

The party was winding down, as it was beginning to get late. Austria stood with Prussia, watching as people left. Finland and Sweden stood by the door to say goodbye, and everyone thanked them for their hospitality and congratulated them along with Greenland and Iceland. There was also a flood of conversation about America and Britain. Apparently they were together?   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
China and Japan left, their arms around each other and walking as though they were a unified person, and really, with their relationship, they sort of were. Japan was even smiling, which was nice to see.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Italy had not picked up on the innuendo/implication of Germany's words, and as they left, he could be heard telling Germany that he didn't have to worry about giving him a massage, that Italy could do the back rubbing since Germany was tired. A facepalm ensued.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Britain and America walked out of the home holding hands and talking with Spain and Romano--who were not holding hands. Spain was asking all sorts of questions (such as when they started dating), but was clearly very supportive of the couple.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Norway and Denmark made their way out. Norway was rolling his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face. Neither of them saw Prussia and Austria standing outside--and Austria was surprised that Prussia hadn't called out to him. He was being surprisingly serious.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Greenland and Iceland were the last to leave, and they were clearly very proud (although very tired, at least on Greenland's part) parents. The child was safely and tightly swaddled in his mother's arms. Iceland had offered to carry him, but she'd held firm to carry him herself. He was stuck with carrying the gifts that they'd received.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Austria and Prussia went to see the child then, and Austria thought the babe was simply precious. He found himself thinking more and more about having a child of his own, but said nothing for the time being. He'd share that information with Prussia later. They said their goodbyes to Sweden and Finland. Finland had apologized for the work Austria had had to do (cleaning, setting up, helping deliver a child) but Austria would hear none of that. It was perfectly fine with him. He told Finland that he hoped that he enjoyed the gift that he'd been given from Austria.

It turned out, it was an mp3 player with large headphones. On the device, there was more than enough classical music to listen for a lifetime. It was for allowing Finland to let his babies listen to it inside of him, and then there was a small speaker set that would allow for them to hear it after they were born as well. Greenland received the same from Austria. There was plenty of space for other music as well, in case they wanted to add some.

Finland hugged and thanked Austria for the gift. Then watched as the couple departed. They seemed more comfortable around each other. And surprisingly weren't bickering as they left. Which made Finland wonder at what had transpired between them. What had changed.

The Fin barely noticed Sweden was still there until he grabbed his hand. Guiding him inside the house. The Swede kissing his wife as he closed the door. Finland blushing intensely.


	7. Man Your Positions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings and Fluff

Italy was as happy and carefree as usual when he and Germany arrived home. Once the front door was closed, he realized what Germany had meant when he mentioned mutual benefit from a massage, as Germany's arms were instantly around him, his hands wandering to places that made Italy feel hot--and not from fever. 

"W-w-wait, Germany! Ah~! I n-need--oh!--to put the leftovers--ah!" Germany was kissing his neck, and he was melting. Hands were sliding his shirt off, caressing the skin beneath, and he had to get away before it was too late.

"Wait!" he pulled away and ducked to avoid another embrace. "Leftovers! Food! Fridge! Be right back!" he bolted into the kitchen and opened the fridge, shoving the food inside, and then turned to go back into the living room.

And stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed that someone was in there. The intruder spotted him and grabbed one of the kitchen knives and Italy's blood ran cold. He was petrified, and seeing the blade only made it worse. He felt like throwing up. This could NOT be happening again!

"G-Ger-Ger..." he couldn't even get the word out, taking a few steps back as the intruder advanced a few steps. And then Italy let out a scream unlike anything that Germany had ever heard before.

Germany had been upstairs preparing to continue their romantic evening. Possibly even the night they conceived. They weren't actively trying, but its not like they prevented it either. More like they constantly left the door open to possibility.

There were candles lit, incense as well, and hot oil set up. Germany was just about to sneak down to the cellar for wine. When a scream that chilled him to the core. Came from the kitchen. Came from his Italy. No one messed with *his* Italy.

Germany grabbed his assault rifle. Then made a mad dash to his wife. He didn't even remember if he ran down the stairs or if he skipped them completely. It didn't matter. All that mattered was his wife was safe. 

Once in the kitchen he saw the intruder before they could advance on Italy. Germany let loose a warning shot next to their head. The intruder threw the knife at him. It went into his hand.

The German swore. He picked up Italy and hurled him onto the couch. Effectively tipping the sofa over on him. Shielding Italy. Then Germany bashed the person in the face with the butt of his gun.

Italy lay beneath the couch shaking and sobbing as he heard the fight ensue. His arms were curled against his chest and he mentally begged for it to be over.

For the intruder, at this point, it was fight or flight--and clearly flight wasn't going to happen. The strike against his face stunned him, but only briefly. He ducked behind the counter for a bit of defense and threw anything he could reach toward Germany, mostly dishes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the knife set and after throwing a few more things, he made a mad dash for the blades.

That was his mistake. Germany who was the Holy Roman Empire. Was the fucking glorious bastard epitome battled seasoned SOB you ever did meet. When the man reached the blades. Germany pulled his hunting knife from his pocket and stabbed the intruder's hand. Pinning it to the counter top. 

Germany never left home without it. You can use it for anything. From cleaning your nails like a bamf to cutting enemy snares from your ankles.

He wasn't proud of his Hitler regime days. But the brutal interrogation tactics came in handy.

While the man struggled to pull the knife out. Which was embedded in the wood as well as his hand. He had a better chance of splicing his hand in half. If he really wanted to get away.

Germany grabbed his head and slammed it face first on the counter, "WHO SENT YOU?!"

No answer. Which earned a double slam.

"WHO SENT YOU?!" 

The man began weeping.

"Fine. Don't answer." Germany said creepily. Calmly. Then opened a drawer he kept kitchen tools in. "The next time you drink tea. Think of me." Then used a mini bolt cutter to chop off his unpinned hands pinky finger. It came off 'easy peasy' as Italy would say.

The man let out a cry of agony. The pain alone nearly made him faint.

"I-I'm sorry!" he cried, flinching away from Germany. He'd given up and was desperate to be released. Even if it was to jail or the police, it would be better than this. 

"No one sent me!" he yelled before the German decided he could live without another finger. "I-I just broke in! I didn't expect--I just came to steal--and then you came home--please, please don't kill me!" He begged for his life. The man wasn't even wearing a mask as the terrorists had. His face was completely visible, albeit bloody now.

Germany didn't buy what he was selling. He went to lop off another finger. But the man elbowed him in the face, when Germany reeled back he pulled the knife free, and bolted from the house into the night. Leaving his finger behind.

Germany after making sure he was really gone. Righted the sofa, picked up Italy, and took him upstairs. Forgetting all about the finger on the counter. 

He put Italy in bed and snuggled next to him, "I have never been so scared Italy." Then he began to cry.

No. No, no. Germany didn't cry. He *never* cried. *Never*. And yet, there he lay, doing just that. At that moment, Italy's heart shattered.

Immediately, his arms were around Germany's head, pressing his fiance's face into his chest, and he felt Germany gripping the back of his shirt, clinging to him. Italy cried with him, tears constantly falling, though he willed himself not to make a sound in crying so as not to upset Germany further. He didn't know what to do, as he had never seen the man so upset before. 

He resorted to beginning to stroke Germany's hair with one hand, though still clinging tight with the other. It took him a few moments to manage to speak without his voice breaking, and he sounded oddly calm due to the restraint.

"I'm okay, Germany. I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay. I love you." He repeated the words as he felt necessary. His shirt was soaked with tears. His pillow was soaked with tears.

He thought about how happy they'd' been right before he'd gone into the kitchen, and the moment--along with that happiness, seemed so far away now. Italy would have given anything to bring it back.

Germany felt Italy's body heat. So warm and inviting. Then as he breathed to calm himself. He breathed in Italy. Italy's scent reminding him of softness, ripeness, and sweetness. Germany felt overwhelmed from stress paired with Italy's smell and how his body felt. 

He couldn't help himself. So his hands began exploring his body. Under his shirt, over his chest, over his shoulders, down his back...til finally Germany firmly gripped his ass. His lips all over his neck and he ventured to nip it. Italy letting out a cry.

Germany had to look at Italy. 

Italy's eyes were closed and his face was flushed. Then his !ids fluttered open. Lashes framing his half lidded eyes. Those eyes begging him for more.

In a flurry of flying clothes. Germany was on top of Italy, licking and sucking his nipple, Italy's leg thrown over Germany's shoulder as he fingered him. Italy panting and whimpering.

It drove Germany wild.

Germany slid down and spread Italy's leg wide and dove his tongue inside his wife's hole. Pumping it like a piston and tongue fucking him deeply.

Italy grabbing and pulling at Germany's hair. Which spurned him on. When Italy was wet and slick enough. Germany moved up, kissed him, and then rolled on his back.

Slowly Italy lowered himself as they kissed. Once penetrated. Germany hugged him to him, still kissing, arms locked around him as he slowly pumped speed gradually increasing.

The feeling of being stretched and filled by Germany's cock--Italy didn't think he would ever get over it. He definitely didn't want to, anyway.

He knew Germany went slow at first so as not to hurt him, but his nerves were on fire. Each touch, each brush of skin, of lips, made him cry out, and he found himself increasing the pace beyond what Germany was doing. When his fiance caught up, however, and began slamming into him as their bodies met, Italy nearly screamed. 

It got to the point where Italy was almost begging Germany to stop--because it felt too good, and he didn't know how much more he could take.

"T-Too good... It feels too good..." he breathed. "I can't... I can't..." He threw his head back and cried out as Germany bit into his neck a bit, then run his tongue over the mark. It was Italy's undoing.

Germany hugged him tighter to him. His fingers hooked into his sides. Italy was so tight and warm. His rectum hugging his cock tighter than arms ever could. Germany could feel his cock aching for release, expanding, and twitching.

But before he did, "Do you want my spunk Italy?" His voice practically purred in his ear.

"Y-Yes...!" He was surrounded by Germany. Germany's arms were around him, he was inside of him, and all he could smell was Germany. All he could feel was Germany, and if he dared lick his lips, he would taste him too. And Germany's voice in his ear...

Italy was undone, crying out as his climax landed between their bodies.

Germany felt himself shoot ropes of cum into Italy. He slowly bucked his hips to fully milk himself deep inside. Making sure Italy got every hot and sticky drop. His cock coming out with a plop. And his seed gushing out of his wife.

They decided on a shared shower before bed. Which led to more fun.

Once out of the shower and in bed. Germany snuggled Italy. Then yawned while sleepily saying, "Tomorrow you enroll in self defense classes."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Austria was surprised, but rather content. Prussia had managed to behave himself on their way home--at least until Austria mentioned that he was tired of walking and wanted to sit down. It was then that Prussia, who slowed down for no man (or in this case, the epitome of aristocratic bitch), and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and continued on, despite Austria's protests to "cease this foolishness immediately!"

Prussia was still carrying him, and having a rather good time about it, as they entered the house. Austria had pretty much given up at trying to get him to put him down--until he felt Prussia's hands beginning to wander up his legs and to his rear, and then the fight started all over again with even more energy. Prussia ended up (unintentionally) dropping Austria who landed firmly on his arse. 

"You dropped me!" he yelled, clearly offended.

"You kicked me!" Prussia responded with just as much offense.

"You tried to molest me!" Austria retorted, before Prussia helped him stand and he turned to go into the kitchen.

"Go upstairs. I'll meet you there." Austria said before Prussia could ask what he was doing. "I'll get some wine for us." He heard the other bounding up the stairs and smiled to himself. It seemed like no matter how much they bickered, it was never (or rarely) real anger, and they both moved on fairly quickly.

Pouring two glasses of wine, he considered just leaving it at that, but then decided that, since they were having a good night, he'd just take the bottle too in case they wanted more. So in one hand, he carried two wine glasses and in the other, the bottle, which he had just opened.

It was then that he spotted something--no, someone--moving near the stairs. And it definitely wasn't Prussia. Before he could even say anything, the intruder ran at him, wrapping an arm around his neck and a hand over his mouth to silence him. The glasses of wine and the bottle could be heard shattering against the hard floor as he raised his hands to pull the man's arm away as he felt himself being dragged down the hall (presumably so that the intruder could find a weapon).

Prussia was just about to run a bath for them. One of the many things that Prussia admired about Austria - the man had taste. Not in a flashy or ostentatious sort of way like himself. More like refined and debonair. 

Austria had a beige porcelain double wide and lengthed imperial claw foot tub. It had golden legs and was surrounded by antique glass vases filled with fresh flowers. There were also stands for candles. Years ago he had a sound system put in, but still managed to prefer the use of earphones.

Prussia first plugged the tub. Then poured in milk, oil, and bath salts before turning the water on. Once on the water would cause a 'stirring' effect. Prussia even adding some bubble bath and rose petals to the mix. His hand slowly spinning in the middle of the bath water.

When he heard a distinct crashing sound coming from downstairs. Prussia knew automatically that something was wrong. Austria was very lithe and was never prone to clumsiness. He would break a bone before breaking his possessions.

In a swift motion Prussia was almost a blur. As he went downstairs the first thing he saw, was the shattered glasses along with the wine. Then he saw shadowed figures in the darkness of the hallway.

One of them letting out a muffled cry at the sight of him. It was Austria. The terrorists were back to finish the job! He had to do something. It had to be fast!

Prussia grabbed his sword from out of the the umbrella bin and charged. Making sure his shoulders are were squared to take the force. And with a fleshy sliding, it went through the man's shoulder. The intruder letting go of Austria quickly.

Austria ran to where Prussia stood. His hands shook, and he went to grab his own blade. It wasn't often that Austria was terrified, but he was now, given the memories of the last invader garbed in black, though this one was not wearing any sort of mask and didn't even seem to have a weapon. And really, the only thing that made it clear (to Prussia) that he was afraid was the fact that, try as he might, he could not steady his hand, so even the blade shook.

The man gripped his shoulder, stunned only for a brief moment before turning to attempt to flee after seeing not one, but two weapons drawn toward him.

Prussia noticed the man's nose was crooked, puffy, and bruised. Meaning it was recently broken and his left hand had a pinky missing. It was still bleeding. Apparently they weren't the first to be attacked by him tonight.

"You have come back to finish off my wife have you? I will end you!" Prussia declared. Pulling the blade out and going in for the kill. The man tried to run, but Prussia kicked out a leg, tripping him.

The intruder began crawling away on his stomach. Blood trailing behind him. Prussia kicked him and it caused the man to roll. Prussia, "You hideous bastard! You will die! Motherfucker die!"

Prussia kicked him so hard he went flying like a soccer ball.

Austria, figuring that he wouldn't be useful at all at the moment, decided to make himself useful by phoning the police. He could hear Prussia in the hall beating the invader. Honestly, he didn't recall ever seeing Prussia so angry. It made him feel some type of way.

As it turned out, Prussia had beaten him to death. The police listened to what they'd had to say and informed the two that he was a known thief, a burglar--not a terrorist, but Prussia didn't seem to care either way. He'd protected Austria, and that was what mattered.

Once the police left, Austria took to cleaning the spilled wine and muttering to himself about how expensive it had been--ever the frugal aristocrat. He was at least relieved to see that the floor hadn't been stained--that would have been more expensive to take care of than anything else that had happened.

He knew Prussia had gone upstairs, possibly to unwind, so once he was done, he grabbed a new bottle of wine and two glasses, this time not filling them until he knew whether or not Prussia would want some, and made his way up to the master bedroom.

Prussia restarted the bath over from scratch and had promptly settled into it. When he heard Austria coming he sat on the tubs edge, taking the items from him and setting them down on one of the tables holding bouquet vases. Then took Austria's hands into his, pulling him closer. Then kissed his mole ever so gently.

Austria closed his eyes, a shiver running down his spine. "P-Prussia, wait..."He felt his glasses being pulled from his face, and then something hot and wet--Prussia's tongue--running over the mole, drawing a gasp from his lips. 

Suddenly, Prussia was stripping him, untying his cravat, pulling his coat from his shoulders,and the buttons of his shirt were coming undone. "H-Hey...!" He pulled away, gasping, his cheeks flushed. 

"I just wanted to tell you that it's okay... I'm okay with--I want--carrying a child. Your child. Our child."

"Well...." He breathed hot and huskily into Austria's ear. "A baby isn't going to make itself...."

Off came his pants along with his boxers next. Prussia's hand moved down and groped his wife. Then slowly began to work its shaft. He did this while licking his mole, then kissing down his jaw as he stepped back into the water. Guiding Austria into the bath with him. Where he continued kissing his way down...

Austria raised a hand to his mouth to stifle his moans, but it wasn't enough when he felt Prussia's teeth pressing over one of his nipples. He arched his back, pressing his chest against his husband, his hands burying themselves in the silver locks before him. He felt like he was melting under Prussia's touch.

Prussia smiled against his skin and looked up at him. Prussia's eyes full of passion and his body full of lust. Austria looked down at him, into his eyes. Prussia blushed then continued on. He kissed Austria's stomach and licked inside his belly button before nipping it. Prussia's tongue licked him down from there and then lightly bit the skin of his wife's pelvic border.

Austria's next moan was particularly loud, and he brought his hands up once again to his mouth--or he tried anyway. This gesture was met with Prussia gripping his wrists and pulling them away from his mouth, maintaining their grip.

"P-Prussia!" Austria protested.

"I like the way you sound and you always cover your mouth. So I'm banning you from doing that. Not allowed." He continued to hold his wife's wrists, one in each hand, as he drew himself upward to run his tongue against his mole again, drawing out a delicious moan.

"Prussia please...! I sound so lewd!" Austria near-whined, his face flushed from both arousal and embarrassment. He started to struggle against the other nation's grip.

"This is sex! You're supposed to sound lewd!" Prussia struggled just as hard to maintain the hold. Water splashed this way and that, some going over the edge of the tub as the two wrestled against one another.

"Unhand me!"

"Never!"

"Immature brute!"

"Stuck-up aristobrat!"

"What did you--ahh!" There was a rather loud splash as Austria toppled onto his back and Prussia landed right on top of him, his legs holding Austria's apart. And his hands still had a tight hold on his wife's wrists.

"If you think you *sound* lewd, little master, imagine how you must *look* right now." Prussia's lips brushed against Austria's ear as he spoke and he could feel his wife quivering beneath him. As if to prove his point, he moved his legs a bit, causing Austria's to spread wide.

Austria's face was redder than ever.

Prussia looked down at him smirking in a sensual sort of way. His features that of a Cheshire cat that was about to explore Austria's wonderland. Austria looked him deep in the eyes and then blushed shying away from such an intense stare Prussia was giving him. 

Prussia grinded his hardness against Austria's while still pinning him by the wrists. Austria raising his hips when Prussia lowered his the body parts practically kissing.

When he was done teasing his flustered and more than eager lover. Prussia shifted so he leaned one side. Holding both of Austria's wrists with one hand as his other steadied his cock. And he pushed into Austria.

Prussia watched as Austria breathed in a moan with his eyes closed during penetration.

"I want you to look at me the whole time" Prussia told Austria as his thrusts deepened but they were still slow fucking "I want to see every emotion as we mate"

Prussia grunted and bit his own bottom lip. Before licking it from his strokes though slow were getting rougher.

"Nngh!" Austria fought hard to keep as quiet as possible, but when Prussia gave a particularly harsh thrust, he cried out. Those times were also when he would close his eyes briefly until Prussia coaxed him into opening them again.

"Prussia... Faster...Please..." he breathed.

Prussia teased him at first slowing down to a humping crawl. Then like the beat of a drum he picked up speed. Austria was shoved so hard from the force that he was half sitting in the tub.

Prussia never took his eyes from Austria's face unless it was to kiss him.

"Austria I love you" he moaned " more than the whole world. You are my world." Another groan.

"I--oh!--I love you too!" Austria managed to say between his moans. He felt Prussia's free hand grip and stroke his cock, and it only took a few swift pumps until he was coming, his back arching as he cried out in ecstasy.

Prussia came right along with him and made sure that his seed was planted deeply inside. He kissed Austria all over his face and his neck. Then snuggled him smiling.


	8. Sea-Sectional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seas and oceans are finally introduced!

Nearly six weeks had passed since the night Austria's and Germany's houses had been invaded. Another world meeting was going to take place this afternoon, the topic of discussion being the second terrorist that had seemingly mysteriously vanished. The nations were going to try to figure out what to do about this, because if this guy was even half as crazy as his buddy, chances are, he wasn't simply taking a vacation. The meeting was to take place at four in the afternoon--a bit later than normal, but it had been requested due to some countries being busier than others.

Austria had slept in late. Really late. Normally he would get up at around six in the morning to shower, read the paper, cook breakfast, watch the news, and get a little bit of time on the piano. He usually had breakfast made at around ten, since that was when Prussia awoke (and the only reason he woke up then was because Austria would come wake him). However, none of that happened today.

The alarm had gone off at six as per the usual, and Austria had turned it off, sitting up. Despite the fact that he'd gotten plenty of sleep, he felt completely drained. He told himself he'd relax for a few minutes before getting up, and he'd fallen asleep again. It was now eleven, and he was still asleep, nestled against Prussia.

Prussia began to rouse from his stomach growling in his sleep. He rolled over and took in the time on the clock, it was 11:17. Prussia's eyes went slightly wide when he saw Austria still in bed next to him. He only ever slept this late if he were sick. So Prussia put a hand to his head, but there was no fever. Austria groggily took his hand in his and kissed it, then tried to go back to sleep cuddling it to his cheek.

"Austria you okay? C'mon let us get up. It is a big day today."

"Hm?" Austria blinked slowly, still tired. He was confused for a moment. First, the room was much brighter than it tended to be when he woke, and second, Prussia was the one waking him up. 

He sat up, then flew out of bed when he realized what time it was. Should he shower first? No, breakfast. Then shower. Why hadn't he set his clothes out last night? Right, he'd been too tired. Why was he *still* tired? He shrugged that last thought off as he wrapped his robe around himself and dashed downstairs to cook and get a pot of coffee going. He loved the smell of coffee as it brewed.

Well, normally, anyway. Today, the second the smell hit him, it was revolting, and it took him a few minutes to figure out just what that awful smell was. He thought he was going to be sick.

Scratch that. He *was* going to be sick. In the kitchen sink, to be more precise. He threw up until there was nothing to come up, and even then he dry heaved a few times.

Prussia was practically glowing as he gave Austria a glass of water.

Austria giving him a 'What is it now?! Choose your words carefully' look.

Prussia shook his head as if to say 'nothing', but his smile grew and showed his teeth.

"Just say it!" Austria said between drinks.

Prussia looked at him, "Did I successfully pop a muffin in your oven?"

Austria choked on the water he'd been drinking. He set the cup down and coughed. The second he stopped, he turned to Prussia, frowning.

"Is this funny to you? Because--" His mouth snapped shut when he fully comprehended that he was, in fact, pregnant. They were going to have a child. A baby. And that child would need things. A crib, clothes, diapers, bottles, toys... A nursery. A changing table, a rocking chair, bedding. Baby soap, baby powder, pacifiers. Formula. And he'd need to get clothes and vitamins,and go to the doctor, and then there would be an ultrasound and later they'd learn the child's sex and he'd get big... Everything was about to change.

And he was pregnant.

And he was *pregnant*.

And was it just him, or was the room spinning? The room was definitely spinning. Austria gripped the counter for a few seconds before he fainted.

Prussia caught him before he could hit the floor and laid him on the couch. With a box fan blowing on him to ease the fainting. While he sat on the edge of the couch and began furiously creating a mass text to everyone, "This is your king of awesome. Guess what?! I have uber sweet news to announce! Austria and I are expecting our first child. That's right. Now you will have two lords of awesome to shower with undying gratitude."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Denmark and Norway both stared at their phones. Denmark was nearly green with envy. It was his idea to get pregnant! What the hell?! They had made a pact to go through pregnancy together! How dare he! Fucking asshole.

Denmark texted back, "You bag of dicks!"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
After about half an hour, Austria groaned as he regained consciousness. Sitting up, he realized he was hungry. Very hungry. And he had a slight headache, possibly because of the fainting.

Prussia had decided to try his hand at this cooking thing. It couldn't be too hard right? Plus he was a father now. His offspring would need to depend on sustenance to survive. So without further ado he tried making BLTs for lunch.

When Austria came into the kitchen. Prussia was on the floor on his knees crying into a pan of charcoaled bacon, muttering, "This is not awesome. I am not awesome. I burned bacon. How do you burn bacon? I don't deserve to live."

Austria sighed. "Really? Bacon is so expensive..." He sulked as he took the pan from Prussia and walked to the trash can to scrape the bacon out. He then cleaned the pan. 

"I'll still never understand how you and Germany are related. At least you didn't burn the house down." Austria said as he gathered some eggs and pulled out the rest of the bacon to fry it. "Can you at least peel some oranges? And get some honey out. And the cinnamon."

Prussia did as he was asked, "You mean West? I am better than him at everything! And in every way!" Except for cooking, but he wasn't about to furtherly bruise his ego.

Austria rolled his eyes and finished cooking, then took the oranges and poured a small amount of honey on them, then sprinkled cinnamon over the honey. He'd learned this from Greece, and it had been a favorite snack for a long time.

He set the food on plates and poured orange juice to drink. Everything went well for a bit--the bacon and eggs weren't bad. It was fine until he ate one of the honey-and-cinnamon oranges. One slice had him throwing up in the trash can.

He gave up on breakfast/lunch.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The meeting was in full swing and much like any other meeting. Everyone had to out talk or their voices over talk the others. There was much bickering and many a ego being bruised. Nothing was panning out to be productive.

When the second terrorist was mentioned. The room became incessantly louder and even more obnoxious than was usual. Everyone fearing their partner could be next. The talk sounding more like a witch hunt.

Mediterranean entered the room along with her aquatic entourage. No one seemed to notice them. The room was a cacophony of verbal chaos. Instantly giving her a headache. How these nations *ever* got anything done was *beyond* her. 

She walked to the front of the room Atlantic and Pacific flanking her.

"Excuse me!" She called. "Excuse me!!!" But the nations were still doing their routine sqwaubling. Completely ignoring her. How utterly rude!

Pacific smiled at her and pulled out his gong. He banged it loudly, "EXCUSE US!"

The nations shut up and stared in their direction. Blinking. Clearly confused as to why strangers were at their meeting.

"Thank you Pacific." She bowed her head to him. "Now that I have your hopefully undivided attention. Let me introduce ourselves. I am the Mediterranean Sea." She pointed to her left. "This is Pacific Ocean." Pacific waved and winked at France. She pointed to her right, "My lover Atlantic Ocean." Atlantic just stared back at them.

Then pointed one by one naming off the others, "Argentine Sea, Dead Sea, Arctic Ocean, Indian Ocean, and Antarctic Ocean."

Medea smiled at them, "You can call me Medea for short. We would like to join the WCC."

Arctic tried to contain themself when they saw Russia, but Arctic was just too excited. And could feel the excitement building to the point where Arctic thought they would explode. Ever since seeing from a distance how he looked similar to Russia. He imagined the nation was somehow his long lost father. So with a grin, giggle, and a leap from the others. Arctic ran to Russia, arms outstretched, and shouting cheerfully, "Papa! Papa! PAPA!!!!"

Arctic threw their arms around the sitting Russian's neck, knees on his knees, and nuzzling Russia's shoulder.

"Child'get back here dis instant!" Argentine called pointing a finger right next to her at a spot on the floor.

"No..."Arctic started to say, but saw the scowl Argentine wore. Not wanting to upset her in front of Papa Russia. Arctic walked back to the group head lowered in defeat.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The nations were silent, and for once, Russia was uncomfortable. 

"You want to join the World Conferences?" China asked, clearly confused. "Why are you just showing up now? And why should we let you join?"

"Yeah, why would oceans be important?" Pacific responded, rolling his eyes. "How about this: You've got a terrorist on your hands right? Well, we could sink any ship they sail--and maybe we wont sink yours." He wiggled his eyebrows for effect. 

"Is that a threat?" Switzerland asked.

Sweden looked to his wife, who was due to give birth any day now. He stood and walked over to the group of seas, staring at Atlantic, who stared right back. Everyone was silent, watching the two, fearing for the worst given that both were pretty intimidating.

And suddenly, silently, Sweden offered his hand. Atlantic blinked, then took it. A handshake. Peace.

Indian giggily bounced up and down, her hands clasped, "This is *so* exciting! We are going to become the bestest of friends!"

Some of the nations laughed nervously. As if to say 'Yeah the bestest of frenemies you mean'.

"And to answer your earlier question...." Antarctic began to say timidly. He had wanted to speak, but then didn't want to, backpedaling. Afraid the nations may not like him and think him especially odd.

But Medea gave him an encouraging smile to go on.

"We have been under attack by the humans...in your nations..your countries." And he gave a face and hand gesture to say 'no offense'. "We aren't erm blaming you per say. But...maybe we can..come to compromises."

France snorted while looking into his wine glass, swirling it around in his hand, "Good luck with that. We can't agree on most things. Ever."

"Oh..." Antarctic gave a downtrodden expression, then continued "Secondly, we haven't come around til now...because we never had much reason. We have a council similar to yours...but Medea.." he looked at her "is our mother sea and thought it was time to change that. For us to make progress. Citing it's all of our world. Not just one factions..."

Then he immediately shut up. Feeling light headed and on the verge from fainting from social anxiety.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Belgium approached Antarctic and gave him a small, comforting, pat on the shoulder. She smiled, a sort of "welcome to the chaos that is us" sort of smile.

Everything was slowly winding down, some countries and oceans more exasperated than others. Germany handed Medea a paper featuring the schedules of the meetings.

Antarctic's world stopped as he took in Belgium. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. And he felt his heart begin to palpitate excitedly. Was this love at first sight?

He blushed and thought he was saying it to himself - in his mind. But it came off of his lips quietly, though loud enough for Belgium to hear, "Gorgeous."

Belgium giggled and patted Antarctic on the shoulder again. "Thank you."

Antarctic smiled back and fresh frozen tears formed in his eyes.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Pacific saw that France was leaving and stopped in front of him.  
"May I?" He asked holding out his hand for the glass. France gave him a look. Pacific took a sip of the wine and smiled, " Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Romanee-Conti Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, France. Vintage 1922. Robust. Structured. Sweet." He licked his lips and stared into France's eyes while saying 'Robust. Structured. Sweet.'

France stared at Pacific. "You know your wine well." He said, grinning and raising an eyebrow. He could appreciate that.

"I own quite the collection. Several ship wrecks and all of them merchant ships. I have priceless antiquated varieties." Pacific said smoothly.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Arctic once the meeting hit a lull bounded to Austria this time, "You are the great pianist!!!"  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"You are a bag of dicks!" Denmark called to Prussia. The two had started talking about the mass text. "You are such a rip off!" He continued. "It was my idea for you to even knock him up in the first place. We had a pact remember?" Denmark was more hurt than anything that Prussia didn't stick with the pact. They were best friends. They shared everything together. This should be one of those things.

"Quit pouting like a child! Who *wants* to have a child with a child, anyway, hm?" Prussia sneered at him. "You can be so pathetic and petty sometimes. It's painful!"

"You take that back!" Denmark said shoving him.

"Never! You child!" Prussia shoved back.

"You douche canoe!" Denmark retorted.

"Language boys!" Hungary shouted. "There is a child present!"

"Actually he's seventeen...." Indi said sheepishly. 

America raised an eyebrow, "You could have fooled me. He looks like he's a tall twelve year old." Then elbowed Japan. "You should make shotacon look more like him."

Russia felt even more uncomfortable that a seventeen year old was calling him 'Papa' and trying to cuddle with him.

"You are just jealous of me! Always living in my shadow!!!" Prussia shoved Denmark. Denmark knocked into Arctic. Knocking Arctic to the floor. Arctic looked like he was about to cry.

The bodies of water thinking he was going to throw a tantrum. Instead he punched Prussia in the face, laying him out cold.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Well, yes, I--" Austria started to say, then watched as Prussia was decked in the face, and he immediately rushed to Prussia's side to help him.

"You're a damn fool." he said, then looked up at Denmark. "Both of you. You caused this." He said this despite the fact that it had been Arctic who'd knocked Prussia out. Austria was clearly more upset than he normally would be.

Norway stood between Denmark and the fallen Prussia. "No more from you. He didn't go against your precious pact, anyway." He took one of Denmark's hands and placed it over his lower abdomen in a silent announcement.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Medea instantly began apologizing for Arctic's behavior. As if he were an unruly child, then again, he *was* indeed an unruly child. The other nations waved her off dismissively and not even all that angry. Explaining if Arctic hadn't done it. One of them was surely to do it to the other.

Argentine dragged Arctic off by the arm anyway and told him they needed to have a long talk at home. About how he should and should not behave. The whole time he whined and was otherwise pouty.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Indi was next to Italy who nervously waved a white flag.  
"Are you a pacifist to?" She asked clearly interested.

"He is not anything except for a scaredy cat." America laughed.

Germany shot a look as if to say 'don't mess with me'. America shut up.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Prussia finally came to. Austria, Mediterranean, and Atlantic crowded around him. Prussia noticed Austria was slightly uncomfortable being in proximity to them. He remembered how marine life bothered his wife.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Denmark's face twisted into indecipherable confusion and then into one of absolute of bliss. He was so happy that he forgot all about being angry with Prussia."Am I really going to be a father?"

And as if to steal his limelight, "Sweden..." Finland said hesitantly. "The babies are coming." He said holding his tummy.

Dead Sea approached them, "I am a doctor." He flashed his license. "I can deliver your children."

Atlantic snatched him away from them. Because he was known to do 'odd' medical experiments.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sweden was immediately at Finland's side and leading him out of the main hall into a different room that had been used after the terrorist attacks. The bed was still in there. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. 

There was a flurry of activity as the nations realized what was going on and Austria checked to be sure Prussia was alright, then excused himself to follow Sweden and Finland. Germany headed out as well.

"Try not to go into labor when there's so much going on, won't you?" Germany joked.

"I'll have you know I plan on birthing my child at home, thank you." Austria responded. "I think it would be better to worry about how we're going to handle Prussia during that time."

Germany nodded, and the two sighed at the thought, then went to work getting blankets and towels. Lots and lots of towels.

Hungary followed them in as well and so did the Dead Sea despite protests from the other bodies of water. 

"They seriously need to give me more credit. I am a professional. I am not interested in experimenting." Then laughed. "Not on babies anyway."

Germany gave him an odd look and said, "I don't care what you do in your free time. " Actually he did. The man completely unnerved him. "As long as you do know what you are doing and you can assist us. This pregnancy is twins and could have lots of..." He saw Sweden glaring at him when he almost said 'complications'. 

Dead Sea moved to be next to Austria and crouched down. Then felt inside of Finland. Shaking his head. "This is no good." Then lowered his voice to Austria."It is breached. Neck is corded. Emergency C section. Required."

Austria double-checked to be sure. Hell. He told Germany, and they discussed how they were going to go about it.

And who was going to explain to the parents. 

Austria ended up being the one to do so. Sweden was holding Finland's hand, and he kissed it when Austria approached. 

"Finland needs to have a C-Section." Austria said. "One of the babies is breech, and while that wouldn't normally pose an issue, the second child's umbilical cord is wrapped around its neck. And the operation needs to be done now if we want to give everyone the child the best chance of survival. We can try for a regular delivery if you'd like, and attempt to prevent the cord from strangling the baby, but there is no guarantee that it's possible. The child could die before we even get the chance."

Sweden squeezed Finland's had and ran a cloth over his sweating forehead. "Fin?" He was asking his wife what he wanted to do. What Finland allowed, he would allow, and nothing less.

Finland was instantly scared to death and feeling panicky. But knew that the welfare of their children came first and with an apprehensive nod and a wobbly voice, "Yes. I will do the procedure."

It was a blur of motion and soon Finland was barely awake (due to the drugs he was given). He felt Sweden kiss his forward and he saw a curtain across his abdomen. The others operating down below. It seemed like an eternity had passed. 

When he had heard the first cry of a baby and saw Sweden's eyes well up with tears. He was looking over the partition at what was going on.

"You are doing great." Germany said to Finland. "The first babe is fine and healthy. Now we are going for the second one."

Finland bobbed his head. Then saw a still bloody, but moving and rather loud baby in Sweden's arms. Sweden's whole attention and focus going to them.

Then Hungary gently took the baby from him and went to clean them.

Austria was careful to unravel the umbilical cord from the second child's neck. He lifted the babe gingerly. Germany cut the cord and Hungary cleared the child's mouth and nose. And this child, the girl, was louder than her brother. It made Austria smile.

"She's going to be a handful, I bet." he said to Sweden, who could only nod as she was placed in his arms briefly and then whisked away to be cleaned. 

Sweden leaned down and kissed Finland's cheek, thanking his wife for all of the hard work he'd gone through to bring their children into this world.

"Th' babes 're perfect." he whispered. "Yer perfect. Love ya, Fin." He pressed his wife's hand to his cheek, wet from tears of the happiest kind.

As Austria removed the placenta, then helped Germany to close things up, his vision started doing funny things and he blinked a few times to concentrate. Once everything was done, he helped Hungary to clean everything up. He helped to get Finland as comfortable as possible after the surgery, then brought the twins to the two, easing the boy into Finland's arms. Sweden held the girl.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Yay babies!" Italy shouted as the other nations and seas bustled about.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
France ignored the commotion. "You don't say?" he said to Pacific.

"Would you care to sample them?" Pacific asked him.

France left with Pacific, having invited his new friend to his place to sample some of his wine.

"It's not often I get a guest. Or at least, one that it isn't so refined." France joked.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Norway pulled Denmark to the side as people moved about. "Yes." he said to him. "I'm pregnant."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Hungary announced that the operation had gone safely to the nations and seas that waited in the main hall. What she expected, and what she got, was extremely loud cheering. What she *didn't* expect, was everyone rushing past her to see the children.

Finland was surprised and taken a back as everyone filed in. Then each took a turn 'oohing and ahhing' over the pink and blue bundles. Of course he liked that everyone could come together in this sort of way, but he was exhausted, and feeling overwhelmed. He just wanted to be alone with his family for a little bit. Finland was just about to say that, but he was tired. So tired. 

"We love ya too...." Then Finland was out like a light.

Hungary, Austria, and Germany ushered everyone out slowly. Hungary decided that she would stay with Sweden and Finland overnight until Finland could be moved home, assuming everything went well. Austria started to volunteer to stare as well, but she gave him a look and he decided that probably wouldn't be the best idea.

"You're tired. Now go home. And eat." Hungary said, shoving Austria out the door. Germany was confused, but he left after Hungary politely told him to go the fuck home.


	9. It Comes In Waves

"Prussia, I'm tired of walking."

It was Austria's usual complaint. They were almost home, as per the usual for the timing of his (what Prussia considered) whining. However, this time he meant it more than before. It was late, and he hadn't had time to eat throughout the day, and then Finland went into labor, then the operation, then he had to clean up. Austria was pale and his body was refusing to work under these conditions. His balance was going on strike, his legs joining a union and protesting poor working conditions. He began to stumble and the world was doing funny things like spinning too fast.

He heard Prussia talking, saw him shrugging his shoulders, probably dismissing his complaint as he always did.

"Make me something to eat when we get home. Our child's unhappy." Austria said, disregarding whatever Prussia was saying. And then he collapsed. He wasn't unconscious, but he was too dizzy to keep his eyes open for very long.

Prussia hadn't taken him seriously. Not very seriously at all. Mainly because Austria would complain and then when Prussia tried to right the situation. Austria would become upset and fight Prussia for interfering.

"Oh poor damsel in distress Austria! I can't do anything for myself. But the moment anyone tries to help me, hell shall rain down upon you. This is why you need me. I am the awesomeness that keeps your life together." He smirked. "I am your duct tape! I am your silver champion!" He threw his arms in the air like a champion. "But still Austria. Why should I even help you? What? So you can bitch slap me with your gloved hand like the douche canoe France? I love you but you're an aristobratic shit. I swear."

So he had chosen to ignore him this time around and apparently he had chosen wrong. Prussia was immediately by his side and he picked up his pregnant wife. Carrying him the rest of the way home. Once there he placed him on the couch. Taking off his coat and his shoes. 

Then went to the kitchen. He had proven before he was a terrible cook. So he made him a ham sandwich with all the garnishes and sweet potato chips. Making himself one as well. Before taking it in to Austria and sitting him down on the couch.

"Now you better eat all of it. No complaints." 

Austria did as told, eating without complaining even once. He was quiet as he ate, thinking. Once they were both finished and he was feeling better, he stood and took the plates to the kitchen, setting them in the sink for later.

He watched Prussia go upstairs into their bedroom and he made a quick round of the lower floor, picking up a few things here and there, and making sure the doors were locked. It was a new habit. Finally, he headed upstairs but stopped at the doorway to the bedroom, watching as Prussia undressed. 

"You don't think I'm like France, do you?" he looked like he might cry.

Prussia stood there half naked. Eyebrow quirked in confusion. He was just about to ask what he was going on about. When he remembered what he yelled at him earlier. And he automatically felt horrible.

"Look. I didn't mean it. I was just peeved." Then he walked towards Austria in his boxers. Arms outstretched apologetically. 

Austria continued to frown until Prussia's arms began to wrap around him, and then he smiled so sweetly. Before Prussia could even think, Austria had moved his hands behind his back, and there was a soft *click* of handcuffs. The chain link between the cuffs was much smaller than a normal pair, so suffice to say he wouldn't be using his hands. He was then spun around and shoved onto the bed hard enough to bounce a bit on his stomach.

"That wasn't nice, you know. Even if you *were* upset that I'd asked you for help." Austria's voice was smooth as silk as he approached his partner. In an instant, Prussia's boxers were gone, and the very distinct feel of the end of a leather riding crop was inching up one of his thighs.

Prussia's ass and thigh muscles spasmed and clenched. Preparing to be struck by Austria. It wasn't often Austria dominated him. But when he did...Prussia was a mixture of nervousness and adrenaline. Yet Prussia being Prussia was as cocky as ever.

"Oh? So scary. You're still an aristobratic piece of aristotrash."

Austria frowned, then set the riding crop to the side. 

"How rude."

He went down to his knees, parting Prussia's legs. He spread his ass cheeks and he used his tongue to pleasure his lover.

Prussia bit his bottom lip and then the bed, but he could hold back no longer. And he began to moan loudly. Slightly becoming hard and he whimpered as he felt precum oozing out. Since he hardly ever had any anal activities done to him. His bottom was extremely sensitive.

"Australia quit teasing me and fuck me. Or let me fuck you. But somebody's getting fucked."

Austria's tongue probed inside of him deeper and Prussia let out a high pitched moan.

"Oh uhng~~~AH!" He just melted and could barely speak. Much less utter a coherent word.

Austria gave him one final lick, then pulled away to stand and admire his work. Prussia was a hot mess, to say the least. His garnet eyes were hooded, his cheeks flushed to match, and he was panting a bit. Perfect.

Picking up the riding crop, he lightly tapped the palm of his hand, as if testing the leather. Prussia didn't seem to notice, and that would make the next moment that much more delightful. He placed the palm of his free hand on the small of Prussia's back, both to steady himself and make sure his partner didn't even think of going anywhere. It was also the only warning he would give, though the other didn't seem to register it at the moment.

"Perhaps you should explain why you deserve it, hm?" There was a slight swishing sound in the air immediately before his first strike, then a second, third, then fourth. He alternated his strikes so that each buttock was treated equally, smiling to himself as he watched the skin pale after each blow, then become an angry shade of red.

Prussia tried to get away but Austria firmly held him down. And even though he knew he shouldn't tense up much like you shouldn't when you get a shot. He did anyway. Prussia couldn't help it. 

"Because I am master's dirty whipping boy" he cried as he was whipped again "I live to serve my master." Another smack across his ass. Prussia moaned incredibly loud. The pain and pleasure blearing together.

A few more blows were dealt before Austria ceased spanking, tossing the riding crop onto the mattress; he’d use it again shortly. Poor Prussia would be stinging and sore for a while. He would comfort him later--they weren’t finished yet. 

“Get on your knees and raise your hips.” Austria ordered as he began to strip. He was almost painfully hard by this point, and the sight of his husband lifting his thoroughly abused ass in the air was almost enough to drive the Austrian to his breaking point, tempting him to take his partner right then and there. But he couldn’t do that. Preparation came first, and he wanted to hear Prussia beg. He grabbed the lube and crawled onto the bed, sitting on his knees as he went to work.

Applying a liberal amount of lube to his fingers, he didn’t bother inserting only one. Prussia was a big boy--he could handle two from the outset. What was a little extra pain at this point? What doesn’t kill you, as they say. He teased the flesh at Prussia’s entrance for a moment, feeling it twitch under his touch, and then thrust his index and middle finger inside at once. After a few rough and swift thrusts, he began to scissor them. 

Austria didn’t fail to notice the pearlescent fluid leaking from the tip of Prussia’s cock, and he took the liberty of smearing it around the head of his cock, and bringing his finger to his mouth to taste it, not bothering to contain the vulgar sound of him sucking on it. Once his finger was thoroughly cleaned, he removed it from his mouth. His other hand had never stopped working to stretch him.

“Is there something in particular you want?” Austria asked.

Prussia could barely think as it was and Austria added his fingers to the mix....he began wondering which was up and what was down. They hadn't even started on even half of what was in store. All he could do was moan, groan, and take orders.

Most of the time he was the dominant one inside and outside of the bedroom. But when he gave into submission. He gave himself completely to submission. Prussia became a willing slave. Things such as inhibition, coherency, and will flew out of the window. 

Austria's fingers made squishing sounds in Prussia's ass. Among with the lube his own juices added to the mix. Prussia's body was overheating with passion. His ass curved, his hips haunched and his ass grinded with Austria's fingers.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. He wanted more. Prussia wanted Austria to fill him and fuck him more senseless than he already was.

Prussia nearly whimpered while moaning, "Take me Austria. Please take me. Fuck me into submissive oblivion."

Prussia's cock twitched releasing more precum and the strain of holding out was beginning to hurt.

Austria smirked, removing his fingers from inside of Prussia. He gave his bottom a light pat of approval. He stroked himself a few times with his well-lubricated hand, then positioned himself, thrusting in slowly. The second Prussia fully adjusted, he pulled almost all the way back out and slammed into him, 

He then gripped Prussia's hair in his fist and pulled so that Prussia arched back so that his back was against Austria's chest. For a brief moment, Austria stopped thrusting momentarily to lick the other's neck and nip one of his earlobes.

"Tell me," he purred, his voice soft as velvet, "would France *ever* have the luxury of seeing the awesome Prussia like this?" He could feel Prussia attempting to move his hips, desiring friction, so he wrapped his other arm around Prussia to keep him still. "Well?"

The second he answered, Austria planned to fuck him until he couldn't scream anymore.

"N-no." Prussia whimpered. "That fif-filthy..mmm..pig could never surpass the hold you have on me. My master." Then he mentally began screaming, 'Fuck me Austria. Please fuck me. Just fuck me.' Prussia could feel himself salivating, nearly drooling at the thought of release.

"Very good."

He removed the hand from around Prussia's waist to grip his riding crop. It wasn't the ideal tool for what he had in mind, but it would get the job done and that was all that really mattered.

"Open your mouth." He said, smiling as his partner did as told, so desperate with need. He turned the shaft sideways so that it would sit between Prussia's teeth, parallel to them. He let go of the other man's hair to grip the other end of the riding crop, so it was almost like an animal's bit.

"Feel free to bite it. This way, I won't have to hold you up by your hair. You can thank me later."

And then he began to thrust, his pace working its way to a merciless speed. Every now and again, he would roll his hips before thrusting in again, searching for the right angle to hit Prussia's prostate--and when he found it, oh, he abused it like Prussia had never experienced before.

Prussia bit the riding crop. Sweat rolling off of him and spittle at the corners of his mouth from moaning. His body rocking forward from Austria's thrusts and then the crop being pulled slamming him back on his wife's cock. 

Austria's presence behind him. Controlling him. Making him subservient. Claiming him. Making him his. It was overwhelming. It was endearing. It was awesome.

Prussia felt Austria hit his prostate and his body tried to lower to the bed. He was instantly becoming mush. But he couldn't. The crop in his mouth preventing such a thing. And with the handcuffs he couldn't stroke himself. So focusing on his sweet spot being hit repeatedly was murder. Sweet blissful. Murder.

Austria dropped the riding crop without warning, and would have been amused at Prussia faceplanting into the bed if he'd been able to be, but his focus was on their pleasure. He reached around to stroke his husband to completion, and the second he felt the muscles tightening around his own cock, he came undone himself.

Normally he would complain about soiled sheets, but he didn't care on this night. He freed Prussia from his restraints before collapsing next to him. It took a moment before either of them could make any sort of meaningful movement.

Austria pulled Prussia into his arms, kissing his lips, a soft and tender kiss in contrast to his previous actions.

"Are you alright?" he asked, panting.

Prussia nodded his head slowly so as not to get a head rush or a major headache. "Yeah. I enjoyed all of it. Nice surprise." He replied panting as well and rubbing his back. "I love you."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Oh? Such is the pity isn't it? One of the curses of being upper class. Then again its a perk that separates us from the peasants." Pacific said his lips smiling over the rim of his wine glass. Before taking a sip of its full redness.

The two of them sitting on Frances loveseat. Pacific pointed out the historic art work. Telling him of his own timeless and rather priceless artisan pieces.

A few wine bottles later, France and Pacific were holding each other up as France gave the tour of his home. It was much roomier on the inside than you might think. Luxury didn't even begin to cover it though. Everything was nice.

"Would you like a room of your own? Or to stay with moi?" France raised an eyebrow, but he'd meant it as a joke..maybe.

Pacific leaned in and whispered into France's ear, "I will fuck you rougher than a tidal wave in monsoon season." Then bit his neck.

France shivered from the feel of Pacific's breath alone, not to mention what he'd said. He led him to the master bedroom.

"I hope you intend to back up your words with actions, no?" he said, stepping inside. He wondered if Pacific had really meant it. He'd heard a lot from the mouths of the intoxicated, and only rarely did it match up with intended results.

Pacific closed the door and threw France onto the bed. Then placed his palms on the edge or the bed, staring at France as if he were a predator, and slowly crawled across the bed towards him. His eyes never blinking or disconnecting from the Frenchman.

Once he had crawled face to face and chest to chest with him, Pacific breathed him in from the chest to behind his ear. Then blew into the space behind his ear and saw the pulse in France's jugular jump in response.

"I don't lie. I make expectations and then shatter them exponentially." Then Pacific roughly grabbed his chin and licked him from his collarbone to his chin. When he reached his chin, his tongue still to France's skin, his eyes connected with his.

Pacific gave him a wicked smirk.

France loved it, to be honest. He hadn't been with anyone even slightly meaningful recently, so this was particularly nice. He shivered in anticipation of Pacific's next moves. If the previews said anything, he was definitely going to love the show.

Pacific kissed him deeply and France kissed him back. Pacific kissed him harder, pushing him back into the bed, and Pacific took his clothes off. Once France was naked his clothes came off. The kissing recommencing.

Pacific smoothly jammed two fingers inside of France and heard him moan against his lips. France tried to break the intensity of their kiss. But Pacific wouldn't allow him and once he finally did France was gasping. While France tried to catch his breath. Pacific bit his neck and fingered him so fast his hand was almost vibrating from momentum.

France was panting by this point, his arms around Pacific, and crying out when he was bitten. The fingers working inside of him combined with Pacific's nips and bites... He thought he could climax right then and there.

"Oh...." the blonde moaned, arching his head back a bit, his eyes closed.

Pacific was not done with him. Not by a long shot and aggressively flipped France onto all fours after quickly removing his fingers. Just as soon as they were removed, Pacific grabbed a fistful of the Frenchman's blond tousled hair. Yanking his head back and effortlessly slamming his more than endowed cock inside.

France quivered and moaned exceedingly loud. Pacific smoothly, swiftly, and deeply pounded France - letting go of his hair and opting to grip his hips instead.

France was becoming louder by the second. His nerves were on fire. Each time Pacific thrust into him, he felt sparks shooting throughout his body, all the way to his fingertips and his toes. He gripped the sheets, clinging for dear life as his body was ravished.

He could cry it was so good. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, his expression contorted in the grimace of pleasure. Every time his hair was pulled, his body only grew hotter, his breath more shallow.

“Nngh! Y-Yes...!”

Pacific felt so good inside of France. The Frenchman fit snuggly like a blond glove. And all he wanted to do was turn him into a shuddering mess. Pacific let go of France's hips relying on his own thrusting hips. Then took both of his hands like claws - raking his nails down France's back. Leaving red marks with a few of the scratches left broken open. Bleeding.

Pacific licked his bloody marks and heard France's cries of pleasure at him doing so.

Pacific pulled out of France and then laid him down. He reinserted himself into France, kissing him, and tweaking his nipples between his fingers. His pace had slowed down a little as he did this. Bringing his semi romantic lover side into play.

"Mmmm...this is my first time trying authentic French cuisine." He said kissing him. As he continued slow fucking him, "I am close to coming. Where do you want it?"

France was lost, appropriately swept away by rising tides of pleasure. He briefly wondered if he'd ever felt this way before sleeping with someone, and instantly concluded that he had not. It was too good...

"Inside, or wherever you like!" This would perhaps be his final moment of sanity (if you could really call it that) for this round. And honestly, he really didn't care where Pacific came. Inside him, on his stomach or back, in his mouth, in his hair, he didn't give a goddamn.

He was so close. So, so close, and he was certain he was seeing stars.

Pacific continued thrusting getting fast and rough again. Once he was close he pulled out, wanting to avoid pregnancy, and ejaculated on France's chest. But it was such a big load and came out so fast some of it splashed on France's chin.

Pacific slid down and took the already close to climax France's cock between his lips. And down his throat. Looking up at him eyes smoldering.

The look that Pacific gave him did it. Yes, the fact that his cock was engulfed in his mouth played a significant role, but his gaze was France's undoing, and he arched his back dramatically as he climaxed, crying out. His toes curled, his fingers gripped the sheet hard, and France thought he might have passed out from the feeling for a second or two, but he couldn't be sure.

He was a mess. A hot, sweaty, out-of-breath, semen-covered mess.

Pacific swallowed all of what France could muster which rivaled his own. And then moved up and looked in his lover's eyes as he licked his own seed off of France. Licked it from his chin and then proceeded to kiss him. Both of their semen intermixed as they made out.

France's arms were wound around Pacific's neck, his hands running across his back and shoulders as they kissed. 

"You weren't kidding." he breathed, referencing Pacific's words prior to their sex--that he'd fuck him harder than a tidal wave in monsoon season.

"I always kid." Pacific chuckled between kisses and then placed his nose to France's, looking him in the eyes. "But I never lie."


End file.
